The Last Recovery of Olivia Dunham
by Kadyn
Summary: He was royally screwed. The metal bracelets digging into his wrists and ankles served to drive that point home more than any other. He glared at her from across the room. "What are you going to do with me?" Olivia grinned at him, "I'm sending you home."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, Shame, Shame I'd put them to more appropriate uses….ahem like the one below!

_**Story Notes:**_ Alright my Pretties, things have been crazy busy for me of late (serious understatement let me tell you) but I have managed to wrangle together enough smut bunnies into the muse corral to get this out.

This story takes place and subsequently departs from Cannon IMMEDIATELY after Peter Leaves in the Second Season, in this universe he was never kidnapped to the otherside, or brought back to Fringe Division to work; he fled the country and was gone for two years. This is a version of how things might have unfolded if Fringe division were closed after his leaving; and Olivia Dunham had to find another way to save the world with the help of Massive Dynamic and Walter Bishops last theory on how to save the world.

Rated for UST/RST Language/Violence/Sex, Sex and More Sex! …oh yeah and handcuffs. :D

This is going M 2.0 Peeps, lol I thought you might like that ;)

Super thanks to my Beta Readers ab89us, and Lnz for their fantastic work with the metaphorical red pens of doom. They did their best to rein in the run-ons and grammatical atrocities and anything that is left below is entirely my fault.

This strays into M 2.0 Category just so you know, so anyone not okay with our two favorite Fringlets getting tangled up in one hot steamy mess probably should hit the back button now; No one is twisting your arms peoples feel free to stick your fingers in your ears say 'lalalalala' and back out now if you think you can't handle it….

Anyone who's been waiting on the edge of your seat for the next looooong awaited update proceed now!

As always Read, Enjoy (I hope) and Please Review; it let's me know what you liked, what you didn't, and if you fell outta your chair when you thought about Peter Bishop and handcuffs in the same sentence. (my oh MY!)

**~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~*~**

**Chapter One**** - "**_**The Last Day of freedom for Peter Bishop."**_

Peter was _royally Fucked_.

The biting steel digging into his wrists' and ankles' clicked maddeningly against the metal frame of the hotel bed he was affixed to with every movement.

How in the _Hell_ she'd even managed to find a hotel with such a frame was beyond him. Peter having previously labored under the delusion that such beds only existed in bad B movies and well….Porno where handcuffs and submissive captives being tortured by smokin' hot women in full leather were featured prominently.

Personally if Peter had his choice, he hoped he was in the Later…but knowing his life or rather what had _BEEN_ his life until he'd abruptly ended that chapter approximately 2 years ago; Peter would never be so lucky.

No if he had to bet money being a gambling man at heart he would unfortunately have to weigh his odds. Just based on his track record with _this_ particular smokin' hot woman and the order of the universe in general; particularly how much it like to fuck with him; Peter was forced to conclude that he was firmly trapped in the first.

Which was unfortunate in many ways; the most obvious being that the object of his every waking and dreaming fantasy for the larger portion of his adult life now was also it appeared a key character in his current predicament. Having been the one to handcuff and shackle Peter to the bed in the first place.

It had all gone so very, very wrong for Peter Bishop somewhere along the way that he was still having some difficulty believing that this was all really happening instead of some bizarre and kinky sex dream.

Not that Olivia's prominent role in Peter's night time fantasies was wrong…well, maybe in some ways it was; but it was _definitely_ not something he could call unusual. Not when it happened with such regularity that he had come to expect it and greatly enjoy picturing her naked and writhing below him or her hair tossed back throat exposed to him as she rode him with wanton abandon late into the night.

Such activities in reality had sadly never occurred between the actual Sexy and Pragmatic Olivia Dunham and Peter Bishop. But that had never dampened the spirits of his exasperatingly imaginative libido when they had worked as partners years ago in the FBI from producing torturously real play-by-plays in Peter's sleep and sometimes even while he was awake.

The fact that the dreams had not ceased but had in fact increased in their intensity and regularity after his departure probably said something rather un-healthy about his particular level of obsession with his ex-partner and her gorgeous body. Something Peter chose not to examine too closely over the last few years hoping to maintain what little hold he had on his remaining sanity and self-control.

Lest he hop on a plane and fly halfway around the world to kick down her door and invariably enact upon her person a similar situation to the one Peter now found himself trapped in-only in actuality _his_ scenario would be more pornographic….and less terrifying.

Imagine that. If you'd told him a year ago that Olivia Dunham would fly half-way around the world to ensnare and kidnap him Peter would have laughed in your face.

He had been aware for some time, unable to stop himself from keeping tabs on her despite his every effort to forget her that Olivia no longer worked for the FBI.

She had in fact relinquished her position with the Fringe team and gone to work, of all places, at Massive Dynamic just after his departure. Only a month or two after in fact.

The news he had been receiving through _very unofficial_ channels had Peter both simultaneously perplexed by this turn of events and greatly concerned. Over the last two years he'd learned that Olivia's latest job description through Massive Dynamic was some sort of specialized field agent.

The closest thing Peter could liken it to be was—well—a bounty hunter.

Only Olivia wasn't capturing and bringing in criminals, well, not criminals that the general public would know about at least.

Olivia Dunham had been captured on video, just once detaining a shapeshifter but not killing him. Peter had been able to determine by hacking into Massive Dynamic's database—no small feat in and of itself, that this was not the first time Olivia had done so.

In fact, over the past two years Olivia had almost single handedly rounded up every person whom did not belong on their side, and those persons were never seen or heard from again.

Which brought Peter's thoughts back to this room, and the inescapable fact that he too was not of this universe.

He knew it, and Olivia knew it.

She was watching him from across the room, a half empty water bottle dangling from one hand as she regarded him with eyes that gave nothing away, no intent, no emotion. She was like a lifeless doll in the corner of the room. In two years she had gone from someone he could read like an open book with just a glance, to an empty page; and it scared the _shit_ out of him.

"So," Peter began, the first time he had really said anything since his capture the day before.

He had remained stoically silent mimicking Olivia throughout the trip out of Hong Kong and the private jet flight that had landed them on the coast of California. The pilot coming back to announce mid-flight that their intention to fly straight on to New York would not be possible. Largely due to all flights being grounded at any possible refueling airports another one of those massive winter storm blanketing the entire Western and Central United States halting all air traffic and making take-offs and landings too hazardous with ice slicked run-ways.

Ra Ra for Global Warming Peter mused.

Olivia had said nothing at this revelation, as the plane had landed on a private tarmac she had hustled Peter down the steps and into a gigantic SUV the make and model of which he was not familiar. The vehicle's basic interior was a kidnapers wet dream in that it came with handy bolted in and very secure steel rings perfect for a passenger who needed to be secured with something stronger then a seat belt on your cross-country excursion.

Perhaps this was some new police model he was unfamiliar with; or the FBI's latest in criminal transport; though he doubted it; the buttons and gadgets that littered the dash before them were completely alien and just screamed _Massive Dynamic _and not GM had made this monstrosity.

Peter could only imagine what the multitude of buttons and knobs were capable of; but seeing as each of these was firmly out of his reach; and Olivia plainly ignored all of them except for the easily identifiable GPS; which had a deeply disturbing proclivity of trying to start up a conversation with its drivers every hundred miles or so, Peter was left to wonder on his own.

Since conversation did not seem to be forthcoming, and Peter had no idea where to even begin; he spent most of the first day theorizing about the action each button and gadget might create, while intermittently fantasizing his escape.

By the time they had arrived at the first hotel Peter had decided that the buttons closest to him most certainly launched missiles off the front of the SUV's monstrous undercarriage. While the lever beside Olivia's gearshift probably enabled it to sprout wings; or perhaps a helicopter like propeller for short bursts of flight. And one of them, most assuredly; he was torn between the red button personally and the deep orange, had to produce a mini-gun from the roof-ideal for spraying enemies with heavy artillery fire.

So Peter had a bit of a GI Joe and Bat mobile obsession, big deal.

If one had to be secreted, he concluded—as a captive across the United States under duress it might as well be in the equivalent of Batman's SUV. Escorted by the hottest Super hero, or super villain, the jury was still undecided, that Hollywood could ever hope to cast; the one and only Olivia Dunham.

Peter cleared his throat, having said nothing in the last 24 hours and not being a man of many words prior to that; he had existed mostly in self-imposed exile except for when he was running a con preferring to be left alone to brood over his private demons.

"What exactly is the deal here?"

Olivia continued to stare at the water bottle in her hand.

"No deal," she finally spoke just when Peter began to think she might actually be a robot incapable of verbal communication. She raised her eyes to his; her expression was grim, the hard lines of her mouth set with determination her eyes held none of the warmth Peter remembered seeing in them.

Peter swallowed. "So…you're going to kill me?"

Olivia laughed at that.

"Glad you find this situation funny."

She shook her head, the barest trace of laughter still visible in her eyes. "I'm not going to kill you Bishop." Her face lost all signs of mirth; her eyes turned haunted and empty again.

"I'm going to send you home."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two **** - **

Peter was silent for a moment mulling that thought over, and it's possible hidden meanings.

"So What? You're going to parade me back into the house on Stolm's Street where Walter will be Cooking up Banana-Yam Muffins and LSD for breakfast and welcome me back with open arms like it was just yesterday that he betrayed every ounce of trust that I ever had in him, In you? What are you going to do _Olivia_?" He spat her name like a curse.

"_Handcuff_ me to the furniture upstairs? Tie me to a stake in the yard like an errant puppy?" He rattled the handcuffs against the metal rails for emphasis, as he glared at her in obvious frustration.

He was so angry that he almost missed the subtle shift in Olivia's features when he said Walter's name.

She'd blanched—hard looking panicked and lost.

Peter watched in fascination, momentarily forgetting his anger as she jerked from her seat to begin pacing the carpet at the foot of his bed from one wall to the other, the bottle clenched tightly in her fist.

This went on for several minutes before Peter became concerned. "Olivia…" she continued to pace without slowing-not meeting his gaze.

"Olivia, What is it?" Dread and a different kind of fear curled in the pit of his stomach now.

Something was wrong; something other than the so obvious debacle that he had landed in.

Something had Olivia pacing like a caged animal her face etched deeply with pain, eyes tight. Unable to look at him.

And then it hit him.

Two years; two years and though he had never once actively looked for information on Walter Bishop, he had also noticed the distinct lack of any information on Walter's current position and whereabouts.

There was no mention of him in the papers or news; no reports of his work with the fringe team which Peter learned had been downsized and underfunded to the point of near extinction.

If Walter Bishop were still on the team and making progress towards solving the cases as successfully as they had been when he was there; their division should have grown; not been annihilated.

Had his father returned to the institution after his departure?

Despite the resentment Peter held towards the man he felt distress at the memory of his Father the way he was when Peter had first seen him institutionalized.

"My father isn't working for the Fringe team anymore is he." Olivia had stopped her pacing by the window, she tilted her head just a fraction in the negative.

"Is he at Saint Clare's?" Olivia's shoulders hunched forward, she turned abruptly towards him again holding up the water bottle still in her hand.

"Are you thirsty?" Peter stared at her, waiting for her to give something away. But she was as immobile as stone.

Peter wanted to say no; if only to be stubborn. But that would hardly assist him in anyway. He was firmly her captive, and incapable of seeing to his own basic needs. He had not had anything to drink since the plane flight the previous night; and the fact that he had not had to pee but once on their long trip—something Peter would like to forget, spoke to his level of dehydration.

Having Olivia stand behind him while he tried to relieve himself in a men's bathroom beside the highway while still handcuffed and shackled. A stun gun trained on his back could definitely give one performance anxiety, and was not something he wanted to repeat.

"Yes." He was hungry too he realized. Olivia had uttered very few words on their journey the bulk of which had been calmly spoken instructions on how he was going to be un-cuffed with one hand to eat about halfway through their day; or how his bathroom break was going to commence.

She had been largely silent as had he.

"Here," She approached the mini fridge in the room, and bending retrieved a new water bottle from inside, she grabbed her tazer gun, an offending object Peter was quite wary of; having already tasted it's bite once; which was how he had ended up cuffed without much fight in the first place. She held the gun in one hand trained on his chest, and a small silver handcuff key in the other.

"Don't do anything stupid Bishop." She approached the bedside and never taking her eyes off his bent to release his right wrist from the cuff. She stepped back to his feet and surprisingly released his ankles as well allowing Peter to sit up a bit more, leaning against the pillows at his back in a more natural sitting position. Olivia retreated several feet setting the tazer on the dresser across the room, well beyond his reach, she twisted the cap on the water bottle breaking it's seal and returned to offering it to him.

Peter took it and quickly gulped it down, surprised when he pulled the bottle away to find it empty. Olivia responded by bringing him another in the same manner, and then tossing the remote for the television at him.

Peter blinked at the small black object beside him on the bedspread as if he expected it to bite him.

"Think Massive Dynamic will spring for the pay-per view channels?" If Olivia was surprised at his apparent knowledge of her employer or at his suggested viewing material while in a hotel alone with her she didn't show it.

"Probably, but it would be awfully difficult to properly appreciate them with both hands handcuffed to the bed again." She gave him a pointed look and Peter leered at her in return unable to help himself.

"There's always your hands, _Sweetheart._"

He watched as Olivia grabbed the keys off the dresser and headed towards the door to the motel room. "In your dreams Bishop."

The door had clicked shut behind her when Peter finally reached for the remote; flipping on the television and announcing to the room, "You have _No_ idea."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Olivia returned not long after, maybe an hour and a half and the smell she brought with her into the room was simply mouthwatering.

"Jesus, You smell good enough to eat."

Olivia arched her eyebrow at him but said nothing in response, instead handing over a non-descript brown takeout bag—the apparent source of the delicious food smells. Peter's stomach growled embarrassingly loud as he ripped open the bag and begin inspecting the presents she had brought.

"I assumed you still prefer a grease spoon to a salad," Olivia flopped down onto the mattress beside him making Peter jump, when she reached for the discarded remote and began channel surfing he tried to focus on eating his fries and burger while they were hot.

The coke she'd also provided was delicious, and Peter ate at lightning speed, while still making some effort not to chew with his mouth open in front of her.

When he's polished off the last of the burger and was shaking the empty bag in front of him to see if he'd missed any fries, Olivia spoke again.

"I forgot how much you used to eat," she shook her head, "It's a scientific wonder that you don't get fat."

"It's hard to get fat when it takes so much energy and effort to be this hot."

Olivia snorted. "That must be it."

She was still channel surfing having not found anything to her liking. Silence filled the room other than the noise of the television.

"The security guard for the motel said you were screaming your head off while I was gone." She quirked an eyebrow at him. "anything I should know about?"

"Gee I don't know," Peter drawled. "I did see on the news earlier that there's this former FBI agent whose been seen in the area with kidnapped people…I was just trying to get the word out."

Olivia's other eyebrow moved towards her hairline; "Is that so?" She nodded her head as if digesting this information. "Excellent; and here I was thinking it might be something actually worrisome like a boogey-men in the closet or a serial killer under the bed."

Peter narrowed his eyes at her, "I don't know about under it…" he didn't finish.

Olivia turned her attention back to the television apparently having settled on a foreign film in ….Russian? "I already told you Bishop; I'm not going to kill you."

"You're just going to kidnap me and handcuff me to your bed."

"Hey, not _my_ bed okay? _Your_ bed. My bed is over there." She tilted her head to the identical mattress about four feet away.

"So if this is _MY_ bed, why are _you_ on it?"

Olivia turned to look at him fluttering her lashes, "What's _**wrong**_Bishop? Don't you _**want**__**me**_ in your bed?"

_Jesus._ Peter felt his heart rate speed up.

When he said nothing Olivia grinned in apparent victory. "Besides, your bed is closer to the TV."

"So the motel security didn't think it worthwhile to come and talk to me, since I was yelling that I was kidnapped? Why the hell did he talk to you, you're the bad guy!"

Olivia quirked an eyebrow towards her hairline again.

"…girl…whatever!"

"Probably because he works for _**ME.**_ This whole motel is owned by Massive Dynamic and all the staff receive handsome paychecks to conduct business as usual; with one exception; when _I_ come into town they post 'No Vacancy'; refund anyone who is already here or booked to stay and they Don't ask any questions. So don't think some heroic patron in the next room is going to help you either. This place is patron free; a ghost town except for you and me until we leave."

"Massive Dynamic owns this motel." He stared at her, she couldn't be serious. Surely she had just made that up to try and stop him from trying it again at the next hotel—or the next time she left him alone at this one.

Probably she didn't even know he had been yelling his head off; she's probably just guessed.

"And about a hundred more like it, Yes."

"Bullshit."

Olivia grinned at him, "You still hungry?" Peter stared at her for a moment, well aware that such a statement could be taken in several different ways; and judging by the grin she was wearing she'd intended just that.

"Going to give me another chance to alert the hotel security guard?" He had to call her bluff, he had to; because if he didn't and she was telling the truth Peter was even more screwed then he'd initially thought.

Olivia turned to slide off the bed and headed towards the small desk, picking up the phone she pressed a key and requested that food be brought to their room; when apparently asked what she would like Olivia shrugged and announced "Just bring us one of everything on the menu." She even added thanks before she hung up.

Peter stared at her open mouthed.

"I bet you didn't even actually push a button, you just told some operator in Nevada to bring us chicken fingers."

Olivia smiled at him and sauntered back across the room to re-take her position on the bed. But not before Peter snatched the remote up off the bedspread with his still free hand to change the channel.

"What's wrong, you don't like foreign films?" Olivia batted her eyelashes at him. Well aware that he spoke perfect Russian as did she; And also that _that_ particular movie was about a Russian hooker, with plenty of raunchy scenes and language.

"In Mother Russia, Movie watches You."

Olivia snorted in response to this and settled in to watch the ball game Peter had found.

About 20 minutes later there was a curt knock on the door and Olivia once again got off the bed, crossing the room she pulled the door open wide and smiling at the gentleman before her ushering him into the room.

Peter was greatly disappointed when the hotel employee in question didn't start screaming at the sight of Peter handcuffed to the bed, or the guns and tazors laid out on the dresser.

"Sorry it took so long, This is only the first half; I didn't want you to have to wait for it all at once; some of it might get cold. I hope that's alright."

"Forget the Food Man! I've been kidnapped! Help!"

Olivia grinned at the hotel clerk who seemed un-affected by Peter's plight.

"I don't know how you do it honestly, you're a real brave woman; it's an honor to have you here!"

"Oh _Come_ ON! Hello! _Man Chained to a BED here!_"

"You know what, I didn't realize you guys had such an extensive menu; I mean," Olivia turned her 1000 watt smile on the poor defenseless bastard. "Look at all this, We probably won't even be able to finish it!"

The man nodded his head, "Would you like me to cancel the rest then?"

Olivia smiled at him, and Peter swore he saw the man _actually swoon_.

Swoon! Oh dammit all to _Hell, _he was sooo Fucked.

Maybe Olivia had developed mind control powers? Highly unlikely Peter decided as she would no doubt just use them to control him, rather than everyone else.

"Would you? That would be great, and we need to get a super earlier start would you see that breakfast makes it here by 7 am sharp?"

The little man was nodding his head so vigorously Peter thought it might be in danger of it falling right off. "Sure, sure! Any idea what you might like?"

Olivia leaned in closer still smiling at the poor man, "You know what? Surprise me." Jesus, had her voice really just dropped a whole octave like that? If she kept this up the man really WAS going to have a heart attack.

He smiled back at her "Oh of course, of Course! I'll leave you to it then!" and he flounced out of the room like a love sick school boy.

Peter was staring at her when she turned back towards him having closed the door and locked it.

"Anything you'd like to say Bishop?"

"Well I was going to point out that you didn't give the poor man a tip; but seeing as he practically had an orgasm standing right there he probably forgives you." Olivia rolled her eyes while rolling the tray closer to the bed he was seated on; she began to divvy up the food between them.

3 innings later Peter announced that while the man may have been an absolute idiot he made some seriously good food.

"You think that man is an idiot because he was falling all over himself to please me? I control the fate of his job as far as he's concerned. He's obviously committed to keeping it, which I'd say is rather wise; jobs at this pay grade don't show up often around here."

"No, I think that man is an idiot because the minute you batted your eyelashes at him he was tripping all over himself to have you doing it again."

"So, a man has to be an idiot to be attracted to me?"

Peter paused. That wasn't exactly how he'd meant it, though it might speak more truth about _him_ then he cared to admit.

"Hey don't let me stop you! I mean if you're all hot for the bellhop apparently there are _Tons_ of empty rooms available! You could have all the wild loud obnoxious gorilla sex you want with the idiot desk clerk"

"_Jealous_ Peter?" Her voice was laced with honey again; it should have been a warning to him.

_No…..Yes. Oh Hell. _He was so screwed. So he went for sarcastic, his number one defense;

"Of _What_?" He leered at her, while his brain conjured up images of himself in place of the stupid desk clerk.

What she did next was completely unexpected.

Olivia shoved the remaining plates onto the floor and moved to straddle his lap completely blocking the television from view.

_Holy Shit_. Peter was quite certain about half the synapses in his brain just blew their circuits.

Olivia leaned into him blowing her breath across his neck, making Peter's skin prickle.

"I'm not attractive Peter?" She let her hands slide down the sides of his rib cage and then back up pushing his shirt up with it, Peter thought he felt her mouth against the side of his neck but it could have been her breathing she was so close.

His brain function came to a grinding halt as all the blood and reasoning ability of higher thinking left him in one lightening fast determined shift for south of the boarder. Peter stuttered.

Actually stuttered; Unable to complete a thought let alone command his brain to construct an appropriately biting response.

"What's _wrong_ Peter, _nothing_ to say?" She hummed against his skin her tongue darting out to swirl a small pattern around the shell of his ear and then she bit down on his earlobe.

"Fuck!" Peter panicked bucking his hips and throwing Olivia off balance and out of his lap he twisted around his own arm leaping off the bed and getting as far away from it as the remaining bracelet would allow.

Peter momentarily considered trying to drag the bed using his wrist across the room; not that that would help seeing as Olivia was still ON the bed, and the bed itself seemed to be bolted to the floor.

_Wild Gorilla sex with handcuffs and a bolted down bed… Stop it!_ Peter mentally screamed at himself

Olivia was laughing, despite having landed in some food she'd failed to sweep onto the floor earlier. She crossed the room to a small bag beside her bed and reaching inside retrieved a fresh set of clothes, which she carried with her into the hotel bathroom without another word to him still cackling like a mad woman.

"Okay your turn," she'd announced about 5 minutes later re-emerging from the bathroom.

"I don't have food on me." Peter was sitting on the edge of the bed again, looking not quite comfortable with lounging on it anymore.

"Maybe not but you've been in a plane and a car for the last two days." She gave him a pointed look.

"And if I refuse?"

"I saw some sturdy railings out by the front walk I'm sure the staff wouldn't mind letting me borrow a hose." She smiled innocently at him.

"Fine, whatever just un-cuff me," She'd probably enjoy that, and Peter was starting to seriously wonder if she would actually do it.

Olivia headed to her black bag again and retrieved a second set of clothes; that looked an awful lot like his, and grabbing her stun gun she approached him unlocking the cuff and tossing the clothes at him Peter quickly got up without another word and stormed into the bathroom.

It was while he was showering that Peter began to realize the desperation of his situation; the deck was stacked completely in her favor; she had the guns, the handcuffs and the hotel staff. If Peter had any chance of escaping he'd have to do something drastic to throw her off balance.

Olivia was seated at the table just beyond the bathroom door when he was finally prepared to make his attempt, crossing his fingers and hoping this would work Peter burst through the door without a stitch of clothing on, and rushed Olivia who moved; but not fast enough to intercept him completely, knocking them both to the Floor; Peter was hoping his superior size and the fact that he was naked and wet would give him enough of an advantage that he could wrestle the stun gun away from Olivia; use it on her and then escape with the Batmobile; at least until he could secure other transportation seeing as it was probably tracked by GPS.

With a cry of triumph Peter managed to get the gun away from Olivia getting thoroughly elbowed and kicked in the process he was about to flip the switch and deliver a bolt of justice to her when the most peculiar thing happened. Olivia pressed her bare hand against his chest there was a flash of white and then the world went dark.

**~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~*~**


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Um I should probably add one of these since I didn't disclaim chapter 2 and 3 eh? LOL Dont own em...but dont you wish I DID? ;D_

_Chapter Four_

When Peter came too slowly a bit later it was to find that he was apparently alone once more in the hotel room; and not only was he handcuffed once more to the bed, he was naked.

Looking down at his chest Peter could still make out a faint angry outline of five fingers and a palm; Olivia's hand.

Olivia had tazered him without a stun gun.

Because obviously he needed one more challenge. Letting his head fall back in defeat against the mattress Peter realized the shower was running in the bathroom again; Olivia was obviously in there; then and not out fraternizing with the bellhops.

As he lay there thinking about her body, naked and wet on the other side of the thin wall Peter heard the water cut off. And he tried really hard not to think about Olivia toweling herself off, and getting dressed, or straddling his lap while naked and wet and licking the side of his neck again; such images having appreciable effects on certain parts of his anatomy that were, in his current state, impossible to hide.

When the door opened to the bathroom again; steam bellowing out before her Peter turned his head to see that Olivia was NOT wearing pajama's as Peter had been expecting; or the same kind of dark black utility pants and stretchy black shirt that he had seen during the day.

Olivia wasn't wearing anything.

_Dear God_, she couldn't have tazed him; she must have shot him Peter reasoned; and this was the afterlife.

Whether it was Heaven or Hell was hinged upon what she chose to do next.

If Olivia noticed he was awake she didn't say anything; she simply moved to the table opened her laptop and began typing away. Offering Peter the perfect view of her pert breasts, trim hour-glass waist and the delicious flare of her hips, her hair was towel-dry and loose around her shoulders.

Deliciously naked Olivia was in the same hotel room with him, and he was handcuffed to the bed…naked while she ignored him.

Peter was in hell.

**_fringe*~*~*~*~FRINGE*~*~*~*~*fringe_**

Okay, so I'm stopping there because I'm evil….(not really the next few chapters are not done with the Beta's ATM and since I'm coming up to a week where I'll be pulling 12 hr shifts daily I figured I might need some Review action to motivate me! Staying up till 3am to write smut [even really steamy smut] can take a lot of work!)

I have not forgotten about the other stories, this one just kept knocking around and had to get out. I swear one day I'll write in a logical order in which I'll finish one story before posting another. (HA! Yeah right) :)

As always please review anything you like about (or didn't like about) this story, grammer content, over usage of words, run on sentences….(I'm trying I swear!) lol Love hearing from everyone, and I cherish every review I get, they make me a better person, and (hopefully) a better writer!

PS: Does anyone know why fanficdotnet keeps removing my story note breaks? It makes it really difficult to let you know the story just STOPPED and my notes started! ugh!


	5. Chapter 5

**~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~*~**

**Disclaimer:** CanI have them pretty please? I promise to be very, very nice! : D

**Chapter Five**

Olivia stood under the spray of scolding hot water, trying hard to ease the tension headache that flexing her mental muscles always produced. Knocking Peter on his ass had been no small feat. The fact that he'd been a good ten feet from the bed when he'd hit the floor like a limp sack of potatoes had been just one more headache in a long string of annoyances.

Olivia had to give him credit for his ingenuity; it had almost worked. Except that Olivia had been expecting Peter to try something tonight having most certainly by now realized the desperateness of his situation and just how stacked against him the odds truly were. And while she had expected some kind of difficulty; She'd seriously underestimated his ability to play on her weakness.

Peter parading out of the bathroom naked being, after all one of the only things in his arsenal that was left to him in ways of distraction; he had no tools, no means of escape in the tiny concrete bathroom; not even a window to squeeze out. And there was no way he was breaking out of the handcuffs or busting the bedrails as this particular room was specially designed with steel frames that were bolted to the floor; one of the nicer arrangements actually; the closet adjoined to this room was a type of solitary confinement box that when Olivia was delivering particularly nasty Perps back to Massive Dynamic came in handy for detaining them over night; sound proof, escape proof and horribly uncomfortable. Olivia only used that option when she truly felt that safety was a concern; being for the most part both technologically outfitted weapons and equipment wise as well as 'Ability' wise to handle anything she came into contact with.

Nina Sharp had originally of course tried to send her out with a team; but they only slowed her down; got in her way; and without her unique abilities the often got hurt; or fooled by shape-shifters and other things that could change their appearances in a matter of moments if cornered; there was no fooling the glimmer though. It didn't matter what they looked like or who they were; Olivia saw through it all.

Letting the last of the soap rinse from her hair Olivia sighed; this was without a doubt far more difficult then she had originally thought it would be. Olivia dreaded this moment ever since she'd realized that capturing Peter and sending him back to the other side was the only way to ensure that they could seal things up—for good.

Walter's last theory being quite clear that the universe's must be in complete balance if they were to have any hope—and even then he had not been 100% certain.

Despite how much was riding on this job being finished; it would be the hardest thing she'd ever undertake in her life to send him back. Harder still because the reactions she was having to Peter were far stronger then she had expected.

Olivia had not factored in to the equation that seeing Peter again would produce the same gut-wrenching reactions that she had felt for him during their partnership. The same responses and feelings that had previously taken years to formulate and mature this time had been as instantaneous and uncontrollable as a wildfire.

That her heart would race when he looked at her; and her breath would catch when they touched was an unforeseen hurdle Olivia didn't need right now. And if Olivia had thought Peter's mouth was trouble before; with no consequences to befall him he was letting it rip left and right; every innuendo, suggestion, and leer sending her further and further off kilter and out of balance.

Olivia had to do something.

She had to somehow reverse what Peter was doing to her and turn it back on him. Re-gain the upper hand that Olivia could feel slipping further and further away. She needed the means to somehow compromise with Peter if she couldn't force Peter to comply. He was smarter than her and very well motivated at this point and If Olivia didn't get control of this situation this might become the very first recovery she'd ever botched, something Olivia's pride wouldn't stand for.

Olivia needed to up the ante, she needed a surprise attack; an ace in the hole, something to send him off balance; and reeling; let him be the one guessing instead.

Olivia grinned in triumph to the empty bathroom a plan formulating.

Peter had obviously been bothered by the whole food-desk clerk-flirty scenario; and even further freaked out when she'd sat on his lap and touched him earlier in the pretense of proving that he did find her attractive; the evidence beneath his jeans when Olivia had leaned back was undeniable; rock hard and hot after only a few moments of her breath at his neck and her tongue swirling around the shell of his ear.

The twinkle in Olivia's eye took on a decidedly wicked gleam as she climbed from the shower; a plan definitely swirling in her brain that was truly perfect. Not only would it distract Peter and throw him out of whack, it would go a long way towards satisfying some of the primal urges that Olivia had been fighting since she'd picked him up in Hong Kong. Olivia was no longer the shy girl she used to be, she was a go-getter, and a tough young gun in the field—the only the gun; and she always got her man.

And right now Olivia's man was more than willing and waiting for her in the other room.

He just didn't know it…_yet._

Poor unsuspecting bastard, this might just give him a heart attack. Olivia grinned again. For all his swagger and innuendo Olivia knew Peter from their time together; and he'd been just as scared shitless of consummating their relationship as she had been. Terrified to mess up what they had as friends and partners.

The difference being that now Olivia knew there was nothing to lose. He might talk a big talk; but when it came to walking the big walk Peter would panic and fold. Giving Olivia control of the deck once more, hopefully long enough for her to complete her mission. On the other hand Olivia mused, feeling the hum of electrical currents tickle just under her skin in excitement at the mere possibility. He might rise to the occasion. Olivia's body felt flushed with heat at that thought the minute electrical currents coursing through her tickling her tummy in anticipation.

_Indeed_, Olivia practically purred Peter _not_ panicking would be far more fun.

Olivia had always fantasized about Peter and what it would be like to be with him. She used to fantasize about what a relationship with Peter might be like; but the time for that was long past. Olivia sighed, that was a reality that could never be. But that didn't mean that Olivia couldn't spend the rest of their short time together trying out some of her _Other fantasies._

Olivia smoothed her fingers through her hair pulling the tangles from it but keeping it loose and slightly twisted; she brushed her teeth flipped off the light and emerged from the bathroom leaving her night clothes right there on the sink.

Peter would never comprehend what hit him.

Steadfastly ignoring Peter, and making a point not to look in his direction as she entered the room Olivia instead headed for her laptop; needing to send an email to Nina Sharp about her current whereabouts…not that Nina wouldn't know where she was the SUV being outfitted with a company tracking device and the Hotel registrar had undoubtedly shown up in Massive Dynamics database as soon as she'd checked in.

No. Olivia didn't need to turn on her laptop…she didn't need to check her email; or email anyone at Massive Dynamic…She didn't need to check the weather for the next day's planned trip…more snow…lots of snow…

Ugh. Just what she needed. They'd be lucky to make it 500 miles tomorrow…it appeared half the interstates in the mid-west were shut down due to snow accumulation and multiple care pile ups. Great. Olivia sighed inwardly then checked her inbox again.

Olivia was stalling. _ChickenShit. _She mentally braded herself.

Olivia thought about jumping up and running back into the bathroom for a few seconds but that was never going to work.

It was now or never if she was going to do something to win this power-play. She needed to offer Peter something he couldn't refuse…dangle some nice shiny trinket before him so that he would cooperate. Olivia was betting that she was going to be that incentive.

_***~*~*~*~*FINGE*~*~*~*~**_

_More to come I promise! I'm about to get the smexy bits out. : D_


	6. Chapter 6

***~*~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~*~*~***

**Disclaimer: **Don't own um, darn shame!

**Chapter Sex****….**_oh pardon, I do mean_** SIX. **

Peter's mouth felt dry, his heart was racing and his pulse hammered just under his temple.

Watching Olivia wasn't helping his current condition so Peter had opted for staring at the ceiling instead. Trying to find patterns and shapes in the swirling plaster that covered the roof above his head like an off-white inkblot exam hoping to distract himself enough to forget that there was at this moment a gorgeous and sensually captivating woman in the room with him; naked and nibbling on her lower lip as she stared at the stupid computer screen.

Peter felt trapped. He felt like a Voyeur despite the fact that he was making every effort NOT to look. He was also rather embarrassingly turned on.

Peter wasn't just a little turned on in fact, he didn't need to look to know that his body was responding to Olivia, and the images his imagination was concocting. Peter was hot and heavy and wanting beyond all belief; and it was somehow, despite all his fantasies about this woman, strangely humiliating to be so completely powerless with her so close.

Peter was caught completely off guard when he felt the bed dip near his hip. Wrenching his gaze from the ceiling Peter was treated to the image Olivia's pale and shapely thigh sliding over his midsection her soft fingers pressing into his chest just below his shoulder balancing her as she moved so that she was straddling him once more on the bed in a far more erotic parody of the actions she had taken earlier in the day.

She hovered above him, barely touching; only the inside curve of her knees made contact with his ribs burning into Peter's nerve endings where they touched.

Peter stared at her in dumbfounded disbelief. There was no way that this was Olivia Dunham, the same Olivia Dunham who had been so shy and coy with him in the years of their partnership. The same Olivia he had tried over and over again to get close too. Failing utterly each time.

She stared back at him her gaze steady and unblinking, and slowly as Peter held her gaze she brought her hands from where they rested against his chest, sliding them over the taut muscles overlying his ribs her thumbs trailing down the center of his chest dipping lower and lower. She dropped her eyes from his to her hands; Watching them trail across his abdomen the muscles twitching unconsciously beneath her fingertips.

She grinned when he sucked in a breath as she brought her hands back up his sides feeling him twitch when she reached a ticklish spot just beneath one of his ribs. Leaning forward onto his chest as she had done earlier that evening Olivia's bare breasts brushed against him, her fingers trailing up his arms to trace just under the now skin warmed bracelets encircling his wrists; holding him captive to this interesting form of torture she seemed to be undertaking. Peter was frozen, unable to move, afraid to breathe as he felt her nipples grazing his chest, her breath against his neck when she licked her lips and swirled her tongue over his pulse point made his dick hardened further and a soft groan escaped his mouth.

"You've been really naughty Bishop." Her voice was sultry sweet, low and velvety a purr in his ear that made his body hum and his dick twitch.

Peter swallowed. "So what are you going to do spank me?" He felt Olivia's body shake with soft laughter, her fingers slowly tracing back down his forearms and biceps to rest on either side of his head. Olivia leaned back from him gazing down at him with eyes that were liquid pools of deep dark blue, little sparks of green dancing just at the edges.

"Spanking is for children, and you are definitely not a child." She rocked her hips back pressing the curve of her ass into his erection making Peter's breathe leave him in a hiss.

"And besides, somehow I think you might enjoy that too much. I think what you need Bishop is a little positive reinforcement instead." And when she looked at him that way, all crooked smile and dark eyes and naked breasts Peter knew that yes he would enjoy it, he would probably enjoy just about anything this woman might do to him so long as she was the one torturing him.

"Funny I don't remember seeing a cookie jar in your suitcase."

Olivia grinned at him sliding her hands along his chest again, bringing them to her own pale thighs beside him. She watched him as she slowly let her hands trace over her own body, watched him swallow, watched his eyes grow darker his breath hitch and catch as her own fingers trailed across the flat planes of her stomach circling her own nipples and pinching them into tight and even rosy peaks. His eyes transfixed with naked hunger as her hands skated across her belly, dipping to her own center as the other returned to flit across her breasts again.

Olivia leaned forward once more her lips pressed to his ear, her tongue darting out to tease his skin. "That's because _I'm_ the cookie jar Bishop."Peter's breath froze in his throat as she nibbled his ear and then sat back on her heels again running her hands across his chest to her own body once more.

_HolyShit_. _What the fuck was she doing? She wasn't really going to…..ohfuck._

Peter watch completely transfixed as Olivia's hands continued to travel across her own pale skin. How badly Peter wanted those hands to be his own, he ached to feel her under his fingers, and taste her under his tongue. To kiss her mouth and consume every gasp and moan that escaped passed that wicked grin she was wearing.

Peter watched helpless to stop her; helpless to participate or to ease his own aching erection as Olivia's fingers continued their own quest.

Olivia's head tipped back exposing the pale column of her perfect throat and delicate collarbones as she penetrated her own warmth, gasping as she circled her hypersensitive entrance with her own thumb, pressing her fingers into a rhythm against her own heat.

Peter stared transfixed as she touched herself. His cock throbbing into the empty air, unable to do anything but watch as Olivia's breathe caught in her throat and she twirled her fingers against the heat of her sex, rocking back so that the curve of her ass once again pressed against his naked flesh, Peter could feel the heat from her body; rolling off of her in thick heavy intoxicating waves.

His body twitched and waited impatiently to be touched Peter strained against the cuffs at his wrist strung tight like an overly taxed bow he felt like his muscles and tendons might snap with the force of trying to free himself.

He wanted so badly to touch her, he needed so badly to touch her to run his hands along her skin and bury his face in her neck. He needed to thrust his aching cock into the liquid heat he could feel against his skin, before he exploded with the pressure.

She was so close, and yet so out of reach.

Pausing to lean forward once more Olivia brought her lips to his ear, tracing the swirl before scrapping her teeth across his lobe, nibbling against his neck. The metallic scrap of Peter's wrist bracelets echoing through the room his struggles against the bed frames bindings punctuating each ragged breathe that left him.

"See Bishop? And you thought you didn't _want_ me in your bed."

Peter groaned trying desperately to dig his heels into the mattress and thrust his hips up into her body, not that this would help him the angle was all wrong, he had no leverage no control, Olivia was the only one who could release him and he knew it.

"Do you know how _wet_ I am right now?" she purred against his neck, rocking her hips back so that the angle of her pelvis tilted, bringing her heat to slide against Peter's twitching rock hard erection. "Look how wet I am, how hot," she slid her sex tantalizingly along his so that despite Peter's bucking hips he had no hope of entering her.

She was torturing him to death.

Peter was ready to scream in frustration.

"Goddamnit Olivia!"

Olivia rocked back to look at him her brow furrowed, "Oh what's wrong? Don't you like feeling how hot you've made me, how wet I am?" She pressed her heat into him wiggling her hips.

Peter's hips bucked against her helplessly. "Fuck!" the steel bracelets clinked hard against the steel bed frame. He was going to have some serious bruises in the morning.

Olivia's breath tickled his ear again, her tongue darting out to torture him again as her hips rocked against him, her wet heat sliding over his impossibly hard erection.

"Olivia…Fuck." He was panting, thrusting and twisting beneath her and against her uselessly.

"Let me touch you Goddamnit." His arms braced against the steel chains holding him captive. His wrists ached with a dull throb in time with his heartbeat; but he barely registered the pain.

"But you were such a bad, bad boy today." Olivia rose back up from his chest, dipping her fingers back into the heat of her core she pumped her fingers twisting her nipple between her fingertips and let out a cry rocking back against Peter's throbbing erection as she came. Peter groaned in frustration feeling her writhe and moan on top of him. He watched her as she breathed his name out, her hips trembling, her skin damp with the slightest hint of sweat as her head tipped back and her breasts thrust towards him.

She climaxed right there next to him moaning his name, not Bishop…_his actual fucking name and he couldn't even touch her._

After her breathing returned to normal and she had leaned forward to brace her weight against the mattress by his head once more Olivia grinned down at him. "Maybe if you're good tomorrow and you don't try anything stupid I'll let you play too."

To Peter's utter disbelief Olivia slid back off the bed and retrieving the key from the dresser where it rested she unhooked his ankles from the frame pulling the coverlet up and over him without another word she turned to flick the lights off In the room and then to Peter's horror instead of sliding into her own bed as she had early suggested she returned to his, crawling under the covers and snuggling up against his side. Her breast pressed against his side, one arm over his chest and one leg draped half over his thigh, the slick heat of her body pressed against his once more.

"You're trying to kill me, you have to be."

"Go to sleep Bishop, you're going to need your rest."

"What I _need_ is for you to un-cuff me _Sweetheart_. What I _need_ right now is to bury my cock in that tight wet little pussy until you forget about whatever stupid mission you think you're on and all you can remember to do is scream my name."

Olivia's breath caught in her throat and her womb clenched in pleasure at the thought. "Go to sleep Bishop." Raising her hand again this time to his temple Olivia gave him a push towards sleep and then exhausted by her own climax and the long day drifted off herself.

***~*~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~*~*~***

_Okay, so did that help scratch the itch? _

_No? Dang, we might have to kick it up a notch! Read on then my Fellow OPFringies_

_As always, reviews are Super! And thanks for reading! : )_


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Don't own them, damn shame really; I can think of several very amazing uses for my very own PO collectors set! *snicker*

***~*~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~*~*~***

**Chapter Seven**

Voices slowly seeped through the clouded haze that surrounded him. A door shut somewhere and then another.

Peter did his best to ignore them, he knew subconsciously that he teetered on the brink of waking and dreaming; and to wake would be to give up the beautiful woman in his arms.

To abandon her silk soft skin would be a crime. The smell of her hair the feel of its weight and texture as it slipped through his fingers in luxurious handfuls. She sighed and gasped beneath him and he thought for a moment that he had succeeded in staving off the edge of reality but he'd grasped to hard for the dream; and felt it fade away leaving him with no choice but to accept its end.

Binking into the softly lit room Peter brought the pale grey of the motel ceiling into focus the rub of slightly scratchy motel sheets against his bare skin was uncomfortable and rough; in sharp contrast with the dream that slipped between his fingers and skittered away with the last remnants of sleep.

Peter sighed heavily to himself breathing in the soft scents that surrounded him, breakfast it seemed was present; somewhere in the room at least. The delicious scent of bacon or possibly ham made his stomach growl with rapt interest.

Taking stock of the dull throbbing ache in his wrists that greeted him as full consciousness and understanding of his surroundings filled him once more.

The bed was empty save for himself; something he'd honestly expected. Finding himself still naked next to Olivia and without cuffs being something he only entertained might actually be possible in his dreams.

In the pale light of dawn as Peter listened to the shower once more in the other room he wondered if it had all been a dream, certainly he had imagined such an exchange between himself and Olivia.

Clearing his throat and doing his best to rise to a sitting position Peter was pleasantly surprised to discover that only one of his wrists remained bound. Upon Inspecting the free wrist he could finally confirm what the throbbing ache already told him; he'd beaten the hell outta himself last night.

The deep blue ring around both wrists stood out stark and angry against his lightly tanned skin. These weren't light ligature marks by any means, and the fact that he had given them to himself struggling the night before not for his own freedom but over the overwhelming need to pin down his former FBI partner and fuck her senseless did nothing to lessen the annoyance or discomfort now. Most kidnap victims earned marks like these trying to get away from their captors Peter had earned them trying to get to her.

Maybe Olivia would take pity on him and not use them today.

_Pfft. And maybe his father could graft wings onto pigs so they could fly._

Peter did not have more time to ponder his misfortunes as Olivia exit the bathroom—fully clothed this time which Peter was both eternally grateful for; and simultaneously disappointed by.

"You're awake."

It wasn't a question so he chose not to answer, instead watching her as she progressed around the room collecting the odds and ends that completed her outfit; watch, cellphone, lap-top bag. Peter was about to worry that she was going to leave him here yet again by himself when she grabbed the handcuff keys from the dresser top and approached him once more.

"Now, remember our deal? No funny business."

Peter continued to stare at her as she approached, feeling some satisfaction when the soft blush against her neck crept up to flush her cheeks.

"Wouldn't want to upset the cookie jar."

Olivia stopped just short of reaching for the remaining bracelet that held him prisoner. She looked calm and in control and yet Peter could see the caution behind those ever intense blue eyes.

"You're trying to figure out if I'm going to attack you the second you let me go. Whether I'll try to wrestle myself away from you again and make your life a living hell. But I don't think that's what actually worries you, you're worried when you let me up that I'm going to pin you to the wall rip off all your clothes and fuck you raw. And I won't lie, the thought did occur to me." He leered at her skimming his eyes over her curves watching her eyes darken when he met them again.

"But the last thing I want is to get knocked on my ass again," Peter's gaze dropped to her hand still grasping the tiny silver key.

"And personally when I rip your clothes off and bury my cock in you it's going to be because you're begging me for it. So I give you my word I'll behave if you let me up. I'd like to take a shower if we're going to be on the road again all day long."

Olivia's flush grew brighter as he spoke but she said nothing, simply reached forward to un-cuff him and then in a show of trust—or possibly because she was trying to hide the color in her cheeks and the hitch in her breath; turned her back to return to packing up her laptop bag.

Peter flexed his now free wrist and crawled out from under the coverlet. Taking a quick appraisal of his current condition maybe the reason she'd turned away had nothing to do with trust, and more to do with modesty…and perhaps that upcoming shower should be a cold one.

Unable to help himself Peter made a bee-line for the bathroom crossing closer to Olivia then necessary as he did so, he felt her back stiffen as he enveloped her from behind only for a moment ghosting his fingertips down her sides and leaning in to press a soft kiss to the back of her neck, he felt her body shiver against his and wanted so badly to turn her around lift her up onto the desktop and ravish her body.

But she wanted to play this game; and she had set forth the rules; No Escape attempts. Behave himself and he would be rewarded.

Unfortunately for her Peter had always been the type of child that had trouble keeping his hand out of the cookie jar; _**Especially**_ when he'd been told not to touch it.

Peter would play her game; but he would play it _**his**_ way.

"Bishop…" it came out half warning half breathy and Peter cheered this small victory; this tiny crack in her armor.

He would win this game, he had nothing to lose.

"You could always Join me in the shower," He felt her tremble, and not wanting to push her too hard, when there was so much fun to be had playing along he retreated to the bathroom leaving the door cracked between them.

***~*~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~*~*~***

Story Notes: Alright Goodness, this story (on my PC at least) is like 27 pages already! 27 pages of PO drabble! Maybe I should join a 12 step program….nah! So while this chapter itself might be on the shorter side, wow It's actually quite lengthy it might be the longest story I've written so far...and I have so many more ideas and tortures...erm I mean scenarios to put our hero's through!

Love the reviews from everyone! It's nice to know you like it…a lot. So many of them crack me the hell up when I get them, I think they might be more fun than torturing poor Peter….almost.

May the smutty goodness continue!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:**So this is the part where I'm supposed to say I don't own them and yadda yadda yadda…Since I'm certain we've already established that let's get on to the good stuff!

**~*~*~*~FINGE~*~*~*~**

**Chapter Eight**

Olivia did not join him in the shower; not that Peter had really expected her to, though he would have been pleasantly surprised by her entrance and was able to concoct for himself in the few minutes he took to shower and dress several fantasies he would love to try out should such a scenario present itself in the near future.

Always come prepared Peter grinned into the mirror, a personal motto of Peter and young boy-scouts everywhere, though Peter doubted the boy-scouts had EVER considered a badge for the kinds of things he was thinking of…though kids did grow up fast these days.

Emerging from the bathroom dressed in the dark denim jeans and a fresh t-shirt he'd found laid out for him inside Peter was pleased to find that food was available at the tiny table just outside the bathroom door.

Olivia was still seated there though instead of eating she was fiddling with the i-pad-ish device in her hands.

Taking a seat across from her and lifting the cover off of the plate before him Peter set to devouring the food while it was hot and available; aware that Olivia would probably get hungry long after him again today; and while he could certainly ask that she stop somewhere and get him food before she admitted to being hungry herself that would make him seem dependent on her; and Peter was trying very hard to regain control of his situation.

Call the man stubborn but he wanted the upper hand, and asking permission for anything wasn't going to get him there.

"Did you eat?"

She didn't look up from the device in her hands. "No."

Peter deftly reached across the small table swiped the device before she could protest and tossed it onto the bed few feet away where it landed with an audible 'plop' against the now hopelessly rumpled duvet.

"You should eat, you're gonna need your strength." Peter winked at her popping a hash brown into his mouth and chewing it slowly savoring the taste of perfectly seasoned grease and potato bits, amused at the blush that sprung to her cheeks again as she quickly dropped her eyes back to her plate, whatever she had been going to say hastily abandoned.

Peter chuckled to himself and polished off the rest of his plate and some of another before deciding he was full. Peter pushed his chair back with an audible scrap against the cheap linoleum flooring.

"What do you say we get this show on the road?" Taking charge, that's what he did best even in the most unusual situations. He reached to grab his coat off the edge of the dresser where it still lay from the night before and Olivia jumped up. Peter cocked an eyebrow at her sudden haste then spotting the handcuffs still sitting on the dresser he grinned.

He watched Olivia as he grabbed the handcuffs and held them out to her. His finger looped through one bracelet letting it hanging casually as if they were an everyday accessory instead of a constituent of his imprisonment.

"You want these I assume?" He smiled at her watching her swallow nervously and reach for them.

Quick as lightening Peter snatched her wrist pulling her flush against him and stepping forward to throw her balance off so that she tripped, stumbled and ended up half seated on the table they had just entertained breakfast at with a loud clang of jostled plates and silverware. He pressed her against his body one arm around her shoulders steadying her, still holding the handcuffs in one hand dangling them next to their faces. Her hands held fast against his shoulders as she'd panicked to grab something when she started to fall.

"I'll give it to you if you _want_ it…all you gotta do is ask _babe_." Peter waggled his fingers making the cuffs swing gently beside her head.

"I could drop you right now." Olivia's hand slid to his chest pressing over his heart where she'd left her mark the night before.

Peter shrugged nonchalantly grinning at her, "No doubt. I've got a better idea though _Sweetheart_, why don't you slide that hand a little lower. I've got a shock all my own, just for you."

"I doubt that."

Peter slid his arm down her lower back pressing her parted legs flush against his watching her eyes dilate just a bit more and her lips part as her breathing speed up. Leaning forward feeling her fingers fist in his shirt against his chest Peter breathed in her scent, watching the flush creep across her ivory skin from this close was fascinating.

"You know what's so exciting about these _Sweetheart_? The whole time I'm wearing them I get to think about what's going to happen when _you're_ wearing them,"

"Never gonna happen," Peter chuckled at the attempted defiance in her voice.

"You mean you haven't thought about it?" Peter traced his hand up her back, pushing under her shirt pressing his fingers into the muscles he found there.

"The things I'm gonna do to you babe, just thinking about it, I'm hard as a rock; I could take you right here…but not yet….you're not just going to ask me. No, you're going to _beg_ me for it."

Peter stepped back from her placing the handcuffs in her hands and shrugging his leather coat over his shoulders to protect him from the snow outside.

Olivia slid from the table and stepped forward to snap the cuffs on his wrists when he held his hands out to her without protest.

She looked flushed and distracted as she slid the bracelets against his skin hesitating for a second when she pushed back the cuff of his coat sleeve to revel the angry ring around his abused wrists.

Olivia traced one finger gently over the marks making Peter shiver before she locked them around him once more; though noticeably looser today.

Grabbing her bag and pointing him towards the door Olivia followed him out into the already thickly swirling snow in the parking lot. The SUV was already started, probably remotely controlled Peter figured…or maybe Olivia started it with her superpowers.

Hearing her remote the door open to his side so he could pull the door open and start climbing in he was a little relieved that at least the car wasn't under her list of superpowers.

Noticing a small object on the carpet near his seat Peter realized it was a bobby-pin, climbing into the SUV while Olivia wasn't looking Peter plucked the bobby-pin from the carpet and slid it into the ankle of his scuffed up work boots while Olivia tossed the laptop bag into the backseat with the other bag and climbed into the driver's seat as Peter swung his door shut using both hands to cover up his previously hunched position as much as possible.

It was incredibly awkward to do even simple things while handcuffed Peter mused.

Olivia leaned across him to unlock his left wrist and reattach the other cuff to the steel ring embedded in the door.

"If you leaned over just a little further we could put on a show for your boyfriend the desk clerk." Peter waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Stuff it Bishop." It seemed her mouth wasn't completely at a loss just yet.

Peter grinned as Olivia backed out of the sleet and snow sloshed parking lot and pulled out into the desolate road beyond.

_**~*~*~*~*~FRINGE~*~*~*~*~**_

_**To be continued…**_

**Author notes:** OMG, you would not believe how sore you can be after running a 5k! (Especially when you didn't train for it hahaha.) I thought I would have more time to write this weekend; but I spent most of it limping from one side of my house to the other wondering why in the world I signed up for this torture!

I will try to get the next chapter out this week, possibly Saturday as the following weekend I will be out of town for a wedding; and seeing as I'm the photographer I'll be stuck editing pictures the whole time I'm there! (Hence: no time to write!)

The fantastic news? I've got the outline finished for this story, so I don't think there will be any 'writer's block' issues in finishing it, just have to flesh out the…well…fleshy parts and hand it over to the beta's!

Hope you enjoyed and as always reviews on content/grammar/other random tidbits are always welcome!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**_:__ Don't Own them, but that doesn't mean I can't take them out for a spin! I make no money from this creation, so suing me really wouldn't be worth your time or lawyer fees…I could give you a German Shepherd Dog…only slightly used! Would you like that oh fox network? Perhaps we could trade? Peter for the Shepherd…or maybe Walter his ramblings amuse me! : )_

_**I was going to give this a few more days with the Beta's but I figured with the Rapture tomorrow and all that jazz (snort) that there might not be anyone to read it then! So HERE YOU GO! **_

**Chapter Nine**

Peter was bored stiff.

His butt had fallen asleep about 100 miles ago…which seeing as they were only progressing at about 20 miles an hour was a significant length of time. The view outside the windshield had changed in the last hour, though not for the better. If Olivia was hoping to make it out of this state today—or sometime this week—they were going to need a bigger SUV…or a snow plow.

Peter shifted in his seat again. At least this morning Peter had been able to pass the time staring at snow covered tree after snow covered tree outside his window.

Boring? Yes, but at least it had been SOMETHING to look at…now it was almost impossible to see anything. The world had turned into a grey swirling mess of snowy sleet and rain. And all Peter could think about was how much his butt hurt. Seeing as Olivia was focusing all her attention and concentration on the road just to keep them _ON_ it, she hadn't been much for conversation…not that she'd been much for conversation the day before, but one could hope right?

At least the SUV was outfitted with four wheel drive; they'd needed it several times now as it appeared that even the multitude of snow plows that were supposed to be on the road were barely making a dent in the endless white hell that had become the western United States.

The inside of the vehicle was silent except for the sound of the windshield wipers swiping futilely at the flakes that still clung to the glass, half obscuring Peter's view of a rather un-appealing driving surface. The snow was sticking to every surface it could. Even the jet black hood of the SUV which should have been too warm for snow to accumulate on was having trouble melting the offending flurries before they could pile on resulting in large sheets of snow sloughing off at random to the left or the right at odd intervals. Olivia had turned off the GPS after it had started chirping every five minutes about the dire state of the roads and how they should pull over and seek refuge.

"How much longer do you want to drive in this?" Olivia didn't immediately answer as the SUV started to slide. Peter unconsciously held his breath as Olivia regained control for about the sixth time in half as many hours.

"Seriously, maybe we should pull off on an exit, grab something to eat and see if this lightens up."

Olivia sighed and pressed the on button on the GPS again. It immediately began shouting about hazardous road conditions even before offering a picture of a map. Eventually the screen loaded, Peter used his free hand to turn the volume down and they discovered an exit not much farther from their current location.

Not only that but according to the GPS an exit with food, Hallelujah! Peter's stomach growled in agreement loud enough that he was certain Olivia would have heard it over the wiper blades continuous fwap, fwap, fwap.

It was kind of rhythmic and soothing in a way, and it might have lulled Peter off to sleep if he hadn't been so worried about them skidding off the road into the ditch.

Peter carefully tracked the approach of the anticipated exit ramp, using the GPS to guide them off the highway onto a road they could not even see, Olivia slowed the SUV to a crawl as they chugged through the deep snow until signs popped into view.

There wasn't much to be had a 24 hr Dinner that promised breakfast all day and night, and a fast food chain that was probably open but severely understaffed in this weather. They opted for the Dinner being within sight when they reached what they assumed to be the bottom of the off ramp; it's presence marked more by the single blinking yellow light, then by any obvious signs of a road let alone an intersection. They plowed their way onto the street where the snow was at least a little lighter and turned into the Dinner parking lot. The lights glowing through the big plate windows showing a few people seated inside.

"At least their open, I'm starving, un-cuff me so we can go eat."

Olivia blinked at him.

"Oh Come on! You can barely drive in this shit, and you think I'd be able to run in it? What do you think I'm gonna do run outside and hail a taxi?"

Olivia leaned over again to un-cuff him and then they both climbed out into the ankle deep snow and trudged inside.

_**~*~*~*~*~ Fringe ~*~*~*~*~**_

Olivia felt besieged with nervous tension as she approached the Dinner just behind Peter.

At least from behind him she could watch to make sure he didn't bolt; not that Olivia really thought Peter might try that here it certainly wouldn't get him very far as he had already pointed out. Running through knee and thigh deep snow drifts would only get him soaked to the bone and a severe case of hypothermia.

This fact though did nothing to quell the butterflies that filled her stomach. And if Olivia was truthful with herself she'd have to admit she was probably on edge because the last time Peter had been out of handcuffs she'd ended up practically dry humping him sitting on the hotel table. She'd been ready to shove Peter off of her this morning; not to handcuff him but to pin him down to the bed and kiss that fucking arrogant smirk of his goddamn mouth.

As Peter reached the Dinner door he held it open for her sweeping his arm before him in a classic gentlemanly gesture of 'ladies first'.

Olivia didn't know why but the act of walking past Peter through the Open doorway seemed unwise; though what he could possibly do to her in full view of the Dinner's patrons (few though they maybe) she had no idea. She could also hardly stand around in the snow all night.

Olivia opted instead for opening the door next to the one Peter held open, which only served to make his grin wider and his shoulders shake with quiet laughter.

Peter, still chuckling to himself, let the door swing shut behind him and followed Olivia through the second set into the Dinner's small hostess receiving area.

Olivia tensed as she felt Peter invade her space in the tiny foyer, he was practically standing on top of her. Almost as if he was worried that _SHE_ was the one that might bolt at any moment. Olivia was about to step away when she felt Peter's hand clasp her own, looking down at their interlocked fingers in shock she felt Peter's breath against the side of her neck.

"Better then handcuffs don't you agree? I can't run away without this." Peter was smirking at her again she could hear it in his voice, practically feel the smugness and amusement that was radiating off of him.

Peter raised the back of Olivia's hand to his mouth with his and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her knuckles.

Olivia felt her knees go weak and her heartbeat speed up.

Olivia was saved from making a response when the dinner's only waitress arrived to take them to a table.

She followed the waitress trying to ignore the way Peter's hand fit into her own and the way he kept tracing his thumb over the back of her hand. Olivia was relieved to see the waitress whose name tag labeled her as Betsy was taking them to a table with chairs at least she wouldn't have to sit on a booth with Peter.

"Betsy? I'm sorry is there any way we could get a booth? If it's not too much trouble, maybe that one over there if it's available?"

Olivia held her breath hoping that maybe Betsy was having a bad day and didn't want to sit them so far from the kitchen, maybe that section would be closed, maybe all the booths were taken.

Unfortunately Betsy seemed to be giving Peter that same dazed look that every freaking women did whenever he spoke to them and she proceeded to led them towards the booth Peter had indicated.

The booth Olivia noted with dread that was in the back of the Dinner away from all the other patrons who were crowded at the small bar in the front watching the weather report on the only television in the place.

Peter gestured toward the booth the same way he had with the Dinner door and Olivia had no choice but to sit, knowing that whichever side she chose wouldn't matter.

Olivia was beginning to suspect exactly how this meal would play out.

Seeing as she couldn't shoot Peter in front of the lovely Miss Betsy, who was still staring at him all dreamy eyed and starting to piss Olivia off, and she couldn't handcuff him into the other booth to keep him in place as she'd left the handcuffs in the SUV Olivia had no choice but to try her best to ignore him, and act like an adult.

Olivia would refused to rise to his bait, she was above such petty games. Peter was only trying to get a rise out of her she reasoned; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Let me get your coat Sweetheart." Peter's hand slid from her own and he reached up to pluck the heavy material from her shoulders, letting it slide down Olivia's arms and tossing it into one of the booths he shucked his own coat and tossed it on top effectively filling up one side of the table.

Olivia slid in to the booth opposite the coats and Peter followed sliding across the uneven surface until his thigh came to rest against hers.

Olivia's breath caught in her throat and she knew that sliding further down the bench would be futile. She could only go another 8 inches or so before there was a wall; and she had no doubt that Peter would just scoot closer to her again_. _

_Just ignore him,_ she told herself even as she felt like the Dinner's temperature had gone up by 100 degrees.

"Can I get you guy's something to drink? Maybe an appetizer to start off with?"

She was staring at Peter as she spoke. Figured, Olivia scoffed more annoyed then she was willing to admit.

"I'd like a hot chocolate and a water please."

"Hot Chocolate is my specialty," Betsy continued to smile at Peter though he was staring down at the menu again. "Anything for you?"

"Just water thanks."

"Nonsense! She'll have a hot chocolate too," Peter interrupted her. Olivia stared at him.

"Come on _Sweetheart_, it's her specialty I bet she makes them with extra whip cream."

"And chocolate sprinkles." Betsy interjected with way to much enthusiasm for Olivia's liking.

"Can't say no to that; What would Walter do?" Peter smiled at the waitress again.

"Two hot chocolates with extra sprinkles and two waters please."

"I'll be back to get your food order in just a few minutes." Betsy beamed and walked away.

Peter turned back to the menu laid out on the table in front of him. He raised one arm and wrapped it around her shoulders pulling her against him. Olivia felt a shiver run down her spine when she felt his breathe against her ear.

"One of these days you're going to explain to me why you pale every time I mention my Father."

Olivia felt the lump rise in her throat at the thought of that conversation. As if he could feel her distress Peter pressed a kiss just below her ear and turned back to the menu in front of him seemingly ignoring her once more and allowing her to regain her composure. His arm still draped casually around her shoulders as if this were something he did every day. Nothing too extreme Olivia told herself, she should take a deep breath and try to relax, they were in a public Dinner for Christ's Sake what was she so worried about?

That is until Olivia felt Peter's other hand against her knee.

Practically jumping out of her seat at the warm weight of his palm against her thigh Olivia froze in place, loosing track of where she'd been on the menu; all mental thought process effectively halted.

_What the hell was he doing now?_

_Just ignore him,_ Olivia mentally reprimanded herself; _he's only trying to get a reaction out of you. _

Unfortunately being ignored didn't seem to affect Peter one bit as his fingers begin tracing up and down her thigh. Lightly kneading and pressing his fingertips into the fabric that covered her leg bringing goosebumps to her skin. Slowly his fingers skated higher and higher up her leg; his eyes still glued to the menu on the table as if it were the most entrancing piece of literature ever laid before him.

Just breathe, and keep reading the salads, he'll get bored and quit. They were in a public restaurant for goodness sake; it wasn't like Peter could…_OhmyGod!_

Olivia's breathe left her in a rush as she felt Peter's fingers press against her most intimate of places through the thin material of her clothes.

She should say something, do something…Hell slap the shit out of him! Part of her brain was screaming; unfortunately the part of Olivia's brain that had control of her proper motor functions seemed just as flabbergasted as the rest of her system. So instead of backhanding him Olivia found herself just staring at the menu before her in stunned disbelieve as Peter's hand continueed to trace patterns on her skin and press against her sex and suddenly she is wet and the room feels a million degrees too hot. Olivia is certain if she were to step outside right now the snow would melt right under her feet.

She's breathing too fast and she struggles to take a calm breath so she can tell him off, when he finds the perfect spot and she's suddenly at another loss for words.

And Peter's fingers just continue to touch her he as if it's the most natural thing in the world for him to be making her hot and wet and so fucking turned on its embarrassing where anyone could notice them despite their tucked away location.

She should tell him to stop, she should say something but she can't seem to form the words and when he stops without warning she almost groans in frustration until she sees the waitress approaching with their drinks.

Olivia is certain that her face is flushed with equal parts embarrassment and arousal, she can only hope that no one notices as Betsy sets their beverages down.

"So, What can I get you to eat?" Peter recites something off the menu without hesitation like he's been considering it the whole time they've been sitting her instead of fingering her under the table like two horny prom dates.

"and for you?"

Olivia's brain felt like it was in overload, she should be able to process something so simple as a what she wanted to eat, but all she could think about was the heat of Peter's body pressed against her side, and the weight of his arm around her shoulders, the feel of his fingers playing with the strands of her hair.

Deftly managing to point to something on the menu and read it off seems to satisfy the waitress as she takes their menu's and leaves once again. Olivia almost calls after her not to go yet but Peter's breath is against the side of her neck again and Olivia's breathe catches in her throat and her pulse is pounding in her ears as his fingers trail back up her thigh to press into her again.

Pressing in expert circles against her center Olivia's hands grip the edge of the cold linoleum checkered tabletop as she feels Peter's tongue flick out to her ear. She's ready to come apart in his arms already and she's fully clothed for Christ Sake, sitting in a public Dinner.

_Oh Fuck_. Peter's fingers are doing something exquisitely delicious to her body and she almost doesn't care.

"Do you know how fucking hot you make me? Do you have _any_ idea Olivia just how close I am to throwing you across this table and ripping your clothes off?"

Somebody lets out whimper, and she thinks it might have been her but she can't be sure.

"I bet you're thinking about it aren't you _Babe_? Thinking about how good it would feel if I were to take you right here. But I wouldn't fuck you right away no, first I'd hold you down and devour every inch of skin on your gorgeous body, I want to know how you taste."

Jesus she was so wet, so close and he seemed to know just where to press, just how to touch her to make her body quiver and her womb clench.

"Do you know what it's been like in the car all day, sitting next to you? Thinking about how you'd feel sitting in my lap. How wet and tight you're pussy is going to feel wrapped around my cock. How good it's going to feel when I bury myself inside of you and make you scream."

Olivia's head was spinning, she couldn't catch her breath the edges of her vision filled with hazy streaks of red and black. Little stars danced in front of her eyes. _Breathe_, Olivia tried to command herself, _fucking breathe before you pass out_.

"I know you've been thinking about it, look how bad you want it, how wet you are, you're so ready I could fuck you right here in front of everybody, you'd like that too wouldn't you? Look at you, you want it so bad, all you gotta do is _ask_ for it Babe."

Olivia's eyes darted to the rest of the dinner, but miraculously no one else seemed to be able to hear her heartbeat roaring in her ears, or the moan she bit back just in time as Peter's fingers pressed with expert precision against her clit.

Peter's fingers continued grinding the seam of her pants against her sex in a maddening friction that had her body flushed with renewed heat. The little tremors that always preceded an orgasm raced through Olivia's muscles and she barely felt Peter's other hand turn her head toward him, his fingers twisted in her hair as he kissed her.

The first wave of pleasure crashed over her and she moaned opening her mouth unwittingly to his assault as he invaded every last ounce of her space, swallowing up any sound before she could make it, whether in protest or pleasure; Olivia wasn't sure anymore.

Every nerve ending in her body was on fire. Olivia's head was spinning and she was certain at any moment the black fuzzy haze at the edge of her vision would become too much and would rise up to overwhelm her like a rogue wave, pulling her under until she was lost crushed by its heavy weight Olivia thrashed weakly against his kiss, one arm flung out in protest fisting her fingers through Peter's shirt in a desperate attempt to hold on afraid that if she let the darkness take her she might never find her way to the surface again.

"Breathe Olivia, Just Breathe Sweetheart."

Peter's voice was liquid honey in her ear, his hands gentle against her back. Reminding her to move air in and out of her lungs, lessening the black and red haze that swam across her vision and returning the world around her to crystal clear focus.

Olivia felt a different kind of heat flush her cheeks scarlet and ducked her chin to escape the intensity in Peter's eyes. Worrying her bottom lip against her teeth Olivia concentrated on moving air in and out of her lungs.

How had she lost control of this whole situation yet again?

Peter's fingers still twisting in her hair, his warm breathe against her cheek and arm still draped possessively around her shoulders might offer some clue.

Olivia was playing with fire.

Peter never backed down; from anything, or anyone. He was as much a bull in a china shop as she was; he could be downright pigheaded and determined, and single-mindedly obsessed to the point that his fixation practically consumed him; ate him up from the inside out; Olivia had seen it on cases they had worked together. Peter's determination and drive to see things through drove him forward like a man possessed.

And now all that laser like focus; all that searing intensity and infatuation was focus on her.

Peter was chuckling again. Olivia could feel it vibrate through his chest into her own from so close. "Babe, if I have to resuscitate you every time you have an orgasm that might put a damper on my plans for when I finally get you out of these damn pants."

"Who said they were coming off?"

Peter grinned at her. "Rewards for good behavior Sweetheart."

"This is _NOT_ the kind of good behavior I was talking about." Olivia hissed glancing around the Dinner again to see if anyone was taking an interest in their exchange; luckily it seemed they were going completely unnoticed.

Not that Peter seemed to care in the slightest, Olivia swatted his hand from her hair. "Stop that! Don't touch me!"

Peter was grinning again a big goofy grin that made him look like a school boy who was getting away with murder.

Olivia was ready to throw the ketchup bottle at his head and pummel him with her fists fortunately she was saved from actually doing any of these things by the arrival of Betsy with their food.

"Here's your food, enjoy let me know if you need anything." And she promptly disappeared again maybe having taken the hint that Peter wasn't interested Thank God Olivia's jealousy brain noted much to her annoyance.

Peter was blissfully silent while they ate, and the rest of the meal was uneventful for which Olivia was grateful. She didn't think she could handle another episode like that at the table without ripping Peter's pants off or shooting him.

The faster she got him the hell out of this Dinner and re-handcuffed in the SUV with his hands to himself the better she'd be able to hold on to the remaining bits of her sanity and self control.

As if reading her mind Peter handed her the cheap plastic bill holder and moved to slide out of the booth.

"Would you mind getting the check Sweetheart while I use the men's room? Unless of course you'd like to join me." Peter leered down at her as she moved to stand grabbing her coat from the opposite bench seat and shoving his coat into his chest with enough force to make him take a step back.

Olivia breezed past him to pay at the counter. "Five minutes Bishop, or I just might leave you in this frozen hell hole."

"That wouldn't be so bad, they have Hot Chocolate and maybe Betsy would join me in the backroom if you won't."

"Two minutes Bishop." She called over her shoulder ignoring his commentary as much as possible, though the Betsy comment made her blood boil and Olivia had to stop herself from snapping at the poor girl as she paid.

Olivia was just about ready to send in a search party when Peter stepped out of the back hallway and headed toward the doors to the restaurant.

"Let's get this show on the road."

**~*~*~*~*~FRINGE~*~*~*~*~**

**Notes:** Alrighty, It took a while to get this out; I went through three versions actually and settled on this one. Big thanks to my Beta's Lady of the Lake, Lnz and Ab89us for everything they do!

Chapter Ten is in the works right now, and it's the Big One! So bear with me Peeps, It might take a hot minute to get it right! Never fear I'm nowhere Near done with this Plot Bunny!

As always Reviews and/or Emails are greatly appreciated and help me write more of what you like! See you in the next chapter! : )


	10. Chapter 10

***~*~*~*~*~FRINGE*~*~*~*~*~**

**Disclaimer:** Don't own them if I did they'd sell the DVD's in a section _Other_ then Sci-Fi! Especially this Chapter Yowza! ;)

Notes: So, Here you go, the chapter you've all been waiting for! It's definitely M 3.0 from Here on Peeps so watch your step, please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all time while in motion and patrons with heart conditions or who are prone to fainting should probably stop now! For the rest of you Off We Go! :D

Chapter Ten

Peter actually slept the last two hours to the hotel that evening.

Olivia Thanked God for small favors as she was having trouble even looking at him asleep without blushing, and worrying her bottom lip.

The episode in the Dinner mere hours ago still had Olivia's head reeling and made her fidgety and on edge.

Despite her best attempts to regain control of the situation with Peter Olivia could clearly see that control slipping further and further from her grasp as they careened farther out of control by the minute. Every second spent in close proximity to Peter was wreaking havoc on every nerve ending and any chance of self-preservation Olivia had left.

She knew full well what was going to happen when they returned to New York. Allowing herself to get close to Peter now…allowing herself to actually experience the feelings and emotions that she had always held for Peter Bishop and that she knew he had for her, doing that Olivia knew with complete certainty would destroy them both.

Olivia Grimaced she was already destroying herself.

She could feel it with each passing mile, each second ticking by on her wrist watch. Closer and closer the time loomed when she would have to complete this mission, save the world, seal her fate.

Walter had insisted, been so adamant that this was the only way; and that she was the only one who could do it. His conviction as he told her what must happen still shook her to the core.

Damn him, as much as Olivia loved that man and had regarded him as a sort of estranged father figure herself, she also hated him for abandoning her and hurting her just as every other father figure had ever done in her life.

As often as she missed Walter and his quirky banter, and half-cocked theories she cursed him twice as frequently for absconding her to finish this task alone.

Peter may have been the first one to leave her, but Walter had not been long for this world after him. Olivia unable to process the loss of two people that were so dear to her she couldn't even admit to herself the importance they held in her life until it was too late had sealed herself off from the world. She had processed the loss in the same way she always had; which is to say not at all; instead Olivia had safe-guarded herself against further loss she'd broken ties with everyone that she had known before, she became hardened and cold, removed and encapsulated; nothing touched her, no one swayed her.

She became the job; there was nothing else, there was no one else. It consumed her; the responsibility the overwhelming pressure…

Save the world.

No one else could do it. She was alone, just as she had been as a child. Olivia was no longer a child though; and she was far more determined and resolute than she had ever been during her time with Fringe and with Peter.

And thanks to the godforsaken weather they were having, it seemed that each minute and hour crawled by with such infinite slowness it was as if they were actually moving backwards in time. Olivia could see the minutes, days and maybe even weeks spread out before her filled with possibilities with Peter…False ones.

It was all a lie after all, there was no time left and Olivia would not allow herself to become enraptured in a future that was lost and would never come to be.

At least the snow which had been pummeling down on them all morning and afternoon did in fact hold off for a few hours; not enough for Olivia to really make up any decent time today, but enough that she was able to reach the next Massive Dynamic owned Motel just off the highway one less complication as driving after dark when the temperatures would make iced over roads a definite hazard was not something Olivia relished doing. Bad enough this drive making good time would take 5 days normally, at the rate they were crawling along it could take 7 to 8…if they didn't get stuck somewhere.

Olivia's attention was captured momentarily by the GPS screen which was flashing a transmission from Massive Dynamic. The little screen filled with words from one of the Techs in New York about the storm pattern in the next state, it seemed while Olivia and Peter might be experiencing a bit of a lull in the snow here, one state over they were getting truly pummeled.

That should make tomorrow's drive interesting Olivia all but groaned.

Pulling into the parking lot of the Motel Olivia parked in front of the tiny sign announcing the office to check in, and turned the SUV off. Peter was still sound asleep it seemed and seeing as he was partially handcuffed once more Olivia didn't really see any point to waking him up, so she climbed out onto the snow sloshed pavement and trudged into the office to let them know she was here. No doubt Massive Dynamic had already called them to alert the staff of her presence in the area.

~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~

Peter woke when he felt the vehicle come to a stop, hearing the engine cut and Olivia exit the vehicle without saying anything to him Peter decided they must be at their stopping point for the night, surely if they were only making a pit stop Olivia would have woken him.

Peter stretched his legs out and flexed his arms as much as the bracelet would allow him to. He'd be glad to get this damn thing off, his wrist still throbbed and his ankles had started to ache about halfway through the day, Peter had not inspected them for the same ring of bruises that marred his wrists but he had little doubt that they were marked as well.

Peter watched as Olivia exited the office door to the Motel and picked her way carefully across the partially cleared sidewalk to the parking lot and climbed back into the vehicle.

"No Vacancy?"

"For everyone else yes," Olivia operated the SUV in reverse pulling it from the parking space and around the side of the building to a sort of courtyard between the buildings. She parked again, turned the vehicle off and reached over to un-cuff his arm from the bar in the door.

Peter pulled his left wrist from her grasp when she reached for it. "How about you don't do that and I carry the bags inside for you." His wrists were beat to hell and the last thing he wanted was to put those damn cuffs back on.

Olivia pursed her lips obviously unhappy with this scenario.

"Where am I gonna go Olivia? If I try to run away you can shoot me in the leg, or taz me or throw a lightning bolt out of your eyeballs or whatever else it is that you can do now."

"Turn you into a toad?"

"Only if you're going to turn me back with a kiss." Peter batted his eyelashes at her unable to resist baiting her a little bit.

"You're hardly prince charming."

"Babe I could blow prince charming out of the water, the things I could do to you they can't write about in fairy tales."

Olivia snorted and climbed out of the vehicle but not before Peter saw her blush again.

Peter grinned stepping out his own door and swinging it shut behind him he walked around the backside of the SUV and met her at the backdoor to grab the two heavier bags.

Shouldering them both he swung the door shut and gestured towards the Motel.

"Lead the way princess."

Olivia quirked one eyebrow at him before turning away towards the building obviously trusting him to follow.

"What does that make you?"

"You're devout servant, your wish is my command m'lady simply lead the way and if I should fail thee punishment is certainly in order." Peter waggled his eyebrows at her when they stopped at the door to their room.

"The devout servant is gonna get handcuffed to the bed in a second while I order dinner." Olivia opened the door and stepped inside flipping on the light.

"Kinky."

Peter followed her inside kicking the door shut with his foot and dropping Olivia's laptop and luggage bag onto the first bed. He turned to watch Olivia across the room her back to him setting the smaller bag she carried with her on the dresser and opening it up to find something in one of the pockets Peter grinned and crossed the floor space to the dresser as quietly as possible waiting until he was just behind her to catch her eyes in the mirror watching them widen as he spoke.

"Unfortunately for the princess, I like to eat my dessert _first._"

_**~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~*~**_

Olivia turned when she caught sight of Peter approaching her in the dresser mirror. Too late to properly react Olivia could have kicked herself for leaving him un-cuffed. Turning to face him did little to improve things as Olivia only found herself trapped against Peter's body with the hard edge of the dresser digging into her backside.

Peter leaned in to her personal space his mouth against the side of her neck, both hands braced on the edge of the dresser on either side of her; effectively pinning her in the tiny space.

Olivia felt her heart beat pound in her ears.

"You've been a really naught girl today Olivia," Peter's tongue darted out to follow the shell of her ear. His breath against the side of her neck sent goosebumps down her arms and electric shocks shooting down her spine straight to her core.

"Looking so damn sexy, making me want you so bad." He'd barely touched her, and Olivia found that she was already embarrassingly wet just from his close proximity.

She should shove him off of her, really she should. Olivia warred internally with the idea feeling Peter's breath drop lower to the collar of her shirt as his mouth pressed softly against the top of her collar bone making her legs feel shaky. Olivia leaned back into the dresser feeling her own fingers curl around one of Peter's biceps the others braced against his chest, her own body in disagreement with itself; simultaneously trying to hold Peter close while pushing him away.

Part of Olivia's arousal fogged brain was setting off warning bells even as the other part of her brain, the part that was entirely enamored with everything that was Peter Bishop was purring like a cat and wondering how it would feel to have that deliciously wicked mouth against her skin doing other naughty things to her.

"I believe it was _you_ that was supposed to behave Bishop, and I distinctly remember some rather untoward behavior from you today. I don't think you deserve any dessert." She might be admonishing him, but dammit all if her voice didn't come out all breathy, and she didn't gasp when he grasped her hip and pulled her pelvis flush against his own.

"How am I supposed to behave when you look fucking good enough to eat?"

Peter's mouth it seemed had given up waiting for permission and was steadily devouring every inch of her neck. Olivia's brain struggled to remember why this was a problem even as she felt her body molding into his, her head tilted back to offer him access to her skin.

Peter's body shifted against hers parting her legs with one of his he leaned into her space further pressing her back against the dresser one hand leaving the edge where he'd had her pinned to fist in her hair tilting her head to give him further access to every inch of delicate skin he found.

"Bishop," Olivia moaned, swallowed, tried to blink back the fog that enshrouded her brain.

She should tell him to stop, this was not what she had in mind. Peter's mouth continued to devour the side of her neck his teeth leaving soft marks against her collar.

"Jesus," Olivia breath came in short panting gasps, the space between her thighs tingled with an aching hunger that only one thing could satisfy.

"That's not my name Sweetheart," Peter's mouth brushed against hers just barely touching, tasting. Olivia's head braced against his hand, his fingers still twisted in her hair at the base of her neck half supporting her, while holding her prisoner to his hungry mouth.

His eyes were dilated to a deep swirling mass of blue Olivia groaned when Peter moved to ravish the sensitive skin below her ear, shivering when his teeth slid across her neck, nibbled at the lobe of her ear. Peter's leg propped between her own was doing more to brace her weight then her own legs, the friction he was causing pressed against her doing nothing to lessen the pleasure coursing through her limbs, the heat pooled in her core.

"Stop it."

Peter frowned at her, though he didn't look put off in the slightest.

"Stop what Olivia?" His mouth descended on hers and she was lost.

All thought fled, any hope of escape died. There was no hotel, no room, no mission to complete or world to save, just Peter and that exquisite mouth against her own, his tongue tracing her bottom lip. Olivia opened her mouth to him with a moan and lost herself even further. Curling her arm around his shoulders and pulling at the t-shirt against his chest Olivia couldn't get close enough when only moments before she'd wanted only to get away.

"What do you want Olivia?" His mouth was against her ear again, and somehow his fingers had found their way under her shirt, caressing over the skin of her back and up and under her bra, palming her sensitive breasts testing their weight with his warm hands, his fingers found her nipples brushing against them teasingly at first as his teeth slide across the base of her neck, leaving a stinging nip that made her gasp and her more heat flash through her nerve endings, and pool near her spine.

"Don't…" She couldn't get the words out, she could barely breath her head was spinning, her senses narrowing down to encompass only Peter's mouth against her ear whispering what he was going to do to her, and Peter's hands on her body, his thumb teasing one taut nipple as his other hand cupped her bottom pulling her against the impressive bulge in his jeans.

"Don't what Babe? Don't touch you?" Peter's fingers skirted down her side.

"Don't taste you?" His mouth encircled her earlobe making her gasp and her legs wobble.

"Bishop…"

Peter's hands were at both of her hips grinding her body against his Olivia gasped and bit her lip with pleasure trying not to moan his name, there was a flash of something in his eyes for only a moment.

"That's not my name Sweetheart, If I'm touching you like this, you could call me by my fucking name." He pulled her hips against his aggressively once more pressing into her with his thigh no doubt able to feel the wet heat pooled against him. Peter's eyes slipped closed for a moment his fingers twitching, pressing against her hip bones in an almost painful embrace that was utterly intoxicating and wildly possessing.

"You really want me to stop?" He swallowed hard his breathing just as hard and fast as hers. Olivia struggled to slow her breathing, she should say yes but words seemed to fail her. She nodded weakly terrified of what would happen if she let this continue.

"You want me to stop then say it." His eyes are fathomless pools of black giving nothing away, his breath against her face as he brushes her lips with his again, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth and then soothing the sting with his mouth once more.

He pulls back when she can't remember how to breathe anymore.

"Say it, and mean it."

"Stop," it comes out weak and breathy and he gives her a look with a twist of his lips that's disappointment and amused all at once.

"Not that. My Name."

Olivia's heart flutters against her ribs and her lip trembles. "No."

"Come on Babe, it's just my name." His words against her ear are silky smooth enveloped in heat, like being wrapped in crushed velvet, his hands are under her shirt again fingers tracing patterns across her skin as he explores, his mouth against the side of her neck.

Olivia moans eyes slipping shut, "Please…."

Peter's teeth graze across her skin tearing a startled gasp from her throat.

"Don't you dare say please to me." He hisses against her skin.

"Not unless you're going to beg me to pin you against the bed and rip all your clothes off. Don't you dare say please unless you want to feel me inside of you, I'm on the edge here Sweetheart, If you want me to stop, then say it."

He raises his head to look at her all flushed and trembling, her hair mused from his fingers, her lips swollen her eyes dark. Her eyelashes look impossibly long and feminine from this close and he leans in to kiss her again unable to help himself. She moans into his kiss, her fingers fisted in his shirt she rocks against his erection and he hisses out a breath feeling his body throb every nerve in his body coiled for release.

"Say it Olivia."

She shakes her head again and his mouth twists like he's tasted something sour.

Peter's hands grab the shoulders of her coat and pull them roughly away from her, She's too befuddled to offer up much of a fight, or much assistance either. Numbly watching as Peter yanks the coat down one arm and then the other throwing it to the floor his hands find the hem of her shirt and that is lifted up and off ; flung away to join her coat on the floor without a moment's hesitation.

Olivia feels his mouth against her skin again, and his fingers pull the bra straps from her shoulders and then her breasts are free and his hands are on her and she gasps and arches back unconsciously thrusting herself into his palms.

His mouth trails from the nape of her neck where he has tasted every inch of her skin to her right breast, he holds her against him thrusting his pelvis forward and into hers in a grinding rhythm as his tongue lavishes attention on first one breast and then the other, pulling her rosy pebbled flesh into his mouth sucking, nipping and then gently caressing each side with his hand and mouth. He has her gasping, and moaning, between the friction against her sex and his tongue darting out to tease her nipple again she's so close to release that it's frightening.

"Are you going to say it?"

His tongue dips to the shell of her ear again and he's shrugging out of his own coat, letting it hit the floor behind them. His hands come back up to massage her breasts again rolling her nipples between his fingers watching her expression as her breath catches in her throat and her eyes flutter, her body trembles.

"I want to hear you say it, Olivia"

She doesn't even nod her head no this time, it's more of a single desperate shake of defiance.

Peter shrugs his shoulders and then she's off the dresser and being half carried-half thrown onto the bed behind them. She's barely hit the mattress and Peter is pressed against her once more, his weight pinning her beneath him, holding her captive to his explorations.

His hands are wandering down her sides again her breath hitches when he reaches the button on her pants.

"Say it. It's not that difficult Sweetheart, you've said it a thousand times before," Olivia gasps and her tummy flutters when she feels his fingers pop the button on her pants loose. Her skin is alive with a million electric currents racing along every inch of skin tickles and jumps with them.

Peter holds her gaze as he slides the zipper down on her pants, his eyes challenging her to give in, to let him have this one thing, but she is just as stubborn as he is, and doesn't budge.

Peter dips his head again to her breasts before travelling lower, one hand bracing his weight while the other traveled up and down her ribs. Abandoning her suddenly without warning Peter stood grabbing the waistband of her pants and yanking her to the end of the bed and half off, he meets her gaze again as he slides her slacks over her hips and down her calves waiting for her to protest, to say something anything but she just lays there trembling against the mattress while he exposes every inch of her body to his perusal.

Peter pulls his own shirt from his body and grabbing the back of her knees pulls her the last few inches to the end of the bed. His hands braced against the mattress on either side of her hips, staring down at her laid out before him. If he were naked right now he might not be able to stop himself from taking her this very moment, making her scream the name she's so fucking reluctant to say.

Olivia's eyes are wide and dark. Her cheeks flushed, hair askew, her breasts heave with each gasping breath. It's the most fucking gorgeous thing he has ever seen in his life and he takes a moment to drink it all in committing every minute detail to memory just as she is, right now naked and waiting for him to touch her.

Peter kneels between her legs, catching her calf when one leg comes up in nervous reflex, to warn him off.

"You want me to stop?" She is quiet still; she knows what he wants to hear it doesn't need repeating.

Peter leans forward to press a kiss just above her hipbone feeling her body jump at his touch. He smoothes his hands up her calves to her thighs feeling her soft skin yield against his fingertips. Hearing her breath catch when he dips his head to kiss her in the same place again. His hands caress her skin moving to frame her hips, holding her still when she squirms and twists as he kisses her lower and lower still pausing to breath in the warm scent of her, one finger tracing with the barest hint of a touch against her folds. Watching her tremble and shudder, her eyes squeezing shut and her breath catching in her throat, her teeth biting into her bottom lip.

Her eyes fly open and she swears aloud when his mouth touches her, her hips buck in protest and pleasure against his hold but she can't get away from his mouth; she doesn't want to really, but still she bucks and twists and curses him. Her womb clenches and heat floods her limbs and core and just when she's on the edge, just about to tumble over he stops and rocks back on his heels leaving her gasping and blinking up at the stark white Motel ceiling, fingers twisted in the comforter sweat beaded against her chest. Breathe leaving her in great heaves.

He stands again and grabs her under her arms hoisting her away from the edge and back up the bed. He climbs up to join her and Olivia notes with some disconnected portion of her brain that he is naked and her body thinks it's about fucking time.

She blinks in confusion when she feels Peter's hands encircle her wrists pulling her fingers from the abused bed sheets and up towards the headboard. It's not until she feels the cold steel against her wrist that Olivia realizes what he's done.

Peter's handcuffs are now locked around her wrists.

Olivia panics jerks against them and Peter's hand wraps around her wrist once more, holding her gently in place his body pressed against hers.

"Stop that or you'll hurt yourself." The last thing he wants is for her wrists to bare marks like his.

Olivia has never enjoyed being restrained, she thinks about it for a moment focusing what's left of her concentration on the bracelet Peter's holding and shoots him a smug look when the bracelet pops open freeing her hand.

Peter shakes his head placing her hand above her head again next to the open bracelet.

"If you're not going to stop me, you're going to play by my rules."

"I could drop kick you across the room right now."

"Babe, if you were going to do that, you'd have done it already."

He lowers his mouth to her once more, tasting every inch of her skin his fingers dipping to her folds hearing her gasp and feeling her hips tremble as he presses against her there. Peter lets his fingertips trace across her opening spreading the wetness he finds there, proof of how ready she is for him. He watches her face, watches her eyes slip shut and her lips part as she struggles to breathe feeling him touch her, his fingers teasing over her body but not giving in to the temptation to enter her, to give her release.

Peter scoots back down the bed to her waiting heat wanting to taste her once more, feel her on his tongue the heady flavor of sex and Olivia dancing on his nerve endings and driving him closer to his own edge.

Peter's tongue flicks against her folds again and he revels in the noise she makes, in the way her hips twist and buck towards him her body silently begging for more of his touch even as she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

She's so close, and Peter can feel it, can practically see the tremor starting in her body enveloping every nerve ending in white hot light, her head tips back exposing the pale column of her throat her hair fanned out around her on the bed.

Peter stops once more.

"God Dammit Bishop!"

Peter grins crawling up the bed to place his hands on either side of her head. Staring down at her an enlightened expression on his face.

"I think perhaps I'm asking the wrong question."

_**~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~**_

Okay, I wasn't going to stop here, but I promised an update by Wednesday and It happens to be Wednesday by my calendar! : )

Chapter Eleven will be up shortly! As always I hope you enjoyed it and please feel free to comment on anything, grammar, content etc in either review or email! Thank you so much for reading, and a big thank you to me beta's for everything they do to keep me on track! You guys rock!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **Don't own them, shame, Shame!

_**Notes:**_ Okay so that was a weird place to leave you, my cliff hangers are something you get used to right? So, Here you go!

The Rest of Chapter 10….though were going to call it chapter eleven for ease of posting further chapters, I thought about re-posting chapter ten with the rest of this attached but I thought that might confuse some readers who might not realize it was reposted it would also make that one chapter about 22 pages long EGADS I write long smut, Holy Hockey Sticks Batman!.…so this for all intents and purposes is now chapter 11. Personally my brain needs _**less **_confusion when I'm dealing with smut-on-a-deadline, not more confusions!

**Chapter Eleven**

It's amazing to Peter how Olivia can still manage a royally pissed off glare despite being flushed, naked and partially handcuffed to the bed.

Using one knee to nudge her legs farther apart without any protest, further confirming his suspicions; Peter settled his weight against hers. Feeling the silky soft expanse of Olivia skin sliding against his own skin, this time while he was in control gave Peter a heady kind of rush that was exhilarating.

Taking in the overwhelming sensation of Olivia's body flush against his, the slick heat of her folds sliding against his erection as Peter's body fit to hers perfectly, like two puzzle pieces, as if he had been born knowing every inch of her skin, every swell every dip.

Being with Olivia like this, touching her like this was so natural that Peter found himself tracing his finger's over her skin without conscious thought. It's as if his hands know instinctively what pleases her. His body knows what will make her gasp and writhe against him. How to shift his hips against her; pressing his length against her entrance but no further teasing himself with her wet heat a dangerous game for both of them that is tantalizing and possessing.

Peter could lose himself with her in this room, days could pass, weeks and years, the world could come undone and still he would not be sated.

There would never be enough of touching Olivia, of tasting her skin, breathing in the scent of her hair. The thrill of breathing in just before he presses a kiss to her mouth; stealing the very air from her lungs; taking in the very essence that is Olivia right down to his soul.

Peter wants to drink it all in, till he can feel every bit of her skin against his own in his minds eye, know every soft groan, and cry she makes by heart, and what he must do to elicit each one from her beautiful and bewitching lips.

Peter watches her lips now, twisted in an attempted scowl. She is trying amusingly to be angry with him; she doesn't want him to have the upper hand, and Peter knows why. He is aware, as he has always been, that Olivia is a bit of a control freak. That she has been trying to distance herself from him in any way she can; even as she is drawn to him against her will.

The basic animal attraction that Peter felt in the beginnings of their partnership, lust and then simple admiration, morphed sometime long ago into a beast that neither of them can control any longer. Peter is hard pressed as to when it actually changed; he only knows that it was long before he realized he loved her, and long before he realized that she loved him back. Long before he realized he was too much of a coward, as was she to risk losing what they had together, taking a chance on something so powerful that it would rock them to the core, binding them together right down to the soul, for Peter had no doubt that this woman laid out before him, gasping beneath him was indeed his soulmate, but to risk that before with so much at stake…they had both folded their cards and fled in fear.

But now, there is nothing stopping them, no FBI, no Fringe, no cases or protocols, there is no one here but Peter and Olivia and it is blindingly obvious to him that they want the same thing, even if Olivia might argue the logistics of the situation if he offered her the chance.

Something Peter was definitely _**not**_ going to do.

He learned long ago that arguing with this beautiful woman would get him _nowhere_ but _frustrated_.

No Peter has learned that to get something done, he's got to push and be pushed, he has hedging his bets. Olivia never backs down from a challenge, and knowing that this is what he really wants, what she really wants, even if she can't admit it aloud just yet, he can see it in her eyes, it's in each gasp and moan, in the hand that's free of handcuffs that's fisted in the bed sheets instead of tazing the crap out of him…Peter maybe playing the upper hand but he has no doubt that if Olivia truly wanted on top she would make it there.

That alone is almost enough for him, it's exalting just to touch her like this and possess her just as he is, but Peter wants more. He wants to hear her give in, he's picked the one thing she's avoided for days, his very name, the one thing Peter's fantasies have always centered upon, the way his name sounds on her lips.

That strong commanding voice that was so capable in their partnership of bringing gun men to a halt, and breaking suspects in integration into pieces. Peter wants to hear her beg him, he wants to hear her moan his name and gasp it as he drives his body into her, he wants his ears to ring until he thinks he might go deaf from her screaming it as he drives her over the edge again and again. Peter wants to hear her say it, no matter how long it takes.

And so far, Peter is winning. (out of place?)

Peter shifts his hips against Olivia's watching with a grin as Olivia's glare turns to a gasp, her eyes sliding shut in anticipation. She wriggles against him and Peter nearly thrust forward into her heat, but steels himself at the last second.

Patients, he needs patients to win this game against her. Small victory though it maybe.

Leaning forward to capture her mouth with his Peter lets her writhe against him for a moment enjoying the feel of her body against his, the welcome heat radiating off her core calling to him, begging him to fill her.

He presses into her ever so slightly, sliding through her slick folds into her waiting heat, he stills himself as she bucks and thrashes beneath him, pulling back when she digs her heels into the mattress trying to drive him further into her depths in a desperate parody of the same position he himself was in just the night before. He will not leave her unfulfilled though, if only she will give in.

"No. Not until you say it."

She opens her eyes to stare at him in incredulity and he knows he's won, she is as far gone as he is now, there is no turning back even if she wants to deny it.

"Fuck You!"

Peter grabs her wrists and holds her down when he hears the cuffs click loose from her other wrist and she struggles to flip them over vying for dominance, knowing that if she can flip them she might be able to shift this power battle back in her favor. But Peter is larger than her she has no leverage despite how she thrashes and moves. Peter keeps his weight pressed firmly against her hold her still despite her struggles, almost effortlessly pinning her hands in his own against the bed sheets feeling her buck and twist in frustration, trying to gain the upper hand once more.

Without her abilities, her handcuffs and gun he is more than evenly matched to hold her in place and Olivia's squirming does nothing to lessen the tension between them. Peter finds it incredibly hot to have her twisting beneath him and judging by the look in her eyes when she finally stops, breath coming in ragged gasps, eyes wild and dark she has found the struggle just as exciting.

"With pleasure Sweetheart, but not until you say it." He slides his length just barely in and out of her folds watching her twist and gasp struggling once more to break his hold, though this time the struggle is much less violent and more in mock protest than anything else. Olivia's head thrashes back and forth as his body tip slides across her folds once more, hair fanned around her head like a golden halo her cheeks flushed and pink she bucks against him futilely once more groaning in frustration.

"God Dammit, Please!" Peter lets one of her wrists go wrapping his fingers in her hair lifting her up to kiss her again. He devours her mouth tongue dueling with her own he pulls back when he feels her thrust against him with her hips once more. Not willing to give her what she so desperately wants until she gives in, He is dying to burry himself in her heat, the scent of her on the air is intoxicating and the feel of her skin sliding against his own has Peter so driven to distraction that he can barely remember when she struggles and bucks against him why he's denying himself the pleasure of loosing himself in her heat, of driving himself into her, claiming her as his the way every nerve ending and instinct in his body is screaming for.

But still Peter resists.

"Not until you say it Olivia," He thrusts against her gently pulling back again before she can react and try to bury him further. Her head thrashes and she pummels his shoulder in frustration with her free hand.

"Come on Olivia, What do you want?" He releases her other wrist bringing his other hand down to circle the bundle of nerves just above her legs, teasing her there watching her groan and gasp in frustration.

"Please, oh god…" She wraps her arms around his shoulders clinging to him desperately her hips trembling beneath his fingertips at his touch. Her eyelashes flutter across the deep ocean of blue and she gasps something so quietly it's more exhalation that sound and Peter can't be certain he's heard her correctly but then she sighs and he hears her again. "_Peter_…please…" His name is breathy and soft, utterly perfect whispered from her lips, and Peter can't take it anymore. He slams his hips forward driving himself into her velvet crushing wet heat in one groaning thrust. Feeling her gasp his name from beneath him as her womb clenches around his body, trembling and shaking beneath him Olivia eyes slip shut her breath is broken and ragged as she struggles to process this new assault on her senses, as every nerve ending in her body reacts to his presence.

Bright white sparks flash at the edges of his vision and he wonders if he might pass out from the overwhelming sensation of being buried in her at last.

The sensation of her nails digging into his shoulders pulling him closer mimicking the same the very embrace her body welcomes him with. Her body is wound so tightly around his that Peter is not even sure that he will be able to move, that he has fit without hurting her; surely she is stretched beyond capacity, Peter is not one to brag, he is by no means the largest man, but he is more than adequate and feeling how tight and hot Olivia's body feels around his own Peter wonders that he even fit at all. The throbbing, clenching heat that surrounds him is the tightest embrace he's certain he's ever felt.

Every part of Olivia's body is perfectly crafted as if it were made for him and him alone.

Olivia thrust up against him trying to drive him deeper still pulling a hiss from his lips as he struggles to adjust to her tight depths. When he thinks he's ready he pulls back from her watching her face as she writhes beneath him feeling her spasm and buck as he drives back into her a touch slower only moments later.

"Say it again Babe,"

She opens her eyes to look at him as he pulls his body from hers again.

"Peter…please…don't stop…please…" Hearing his name tumble from her lips, seeing her like this is the most beautiful memory Peter is certain he will ever have if he lives a thousand lifetimes, no moment, no one person had the right to be so striking, so utterly captivating.

Peter slams his body into hers once more, establishing a harsh staccato rhythm that has her moaning his name with each thrust and gasping for breath. When her body trembles beneath him and he feels the first waves of her release tighten impossibly further around his body Peter does nothing to stop his rhythm watching her eyes slip shut and her fingers grasp his shoulders, watching her head tilt back, hearing her scream his name.

Olivia is clutching the bed frame and tilting her hips up to meet his as Peter thrusts harder. Relishing the look on her face, the wild expression in the dark heat of her eyes as she urges him on, begs him to give it to her, harder, faster. Olivia Gasps his name like a mantra, begging him not to stop as she bucks beneath him, a second orgasm crashing over her just after the first has started to abate, this one so harsh and fast in its uptake that Peter is powerless against her pull, and tumbles over the edge behind her.

Pumping his hips into with reckless abandon Peter lets himself slip over the edge closing his eyes to drink in every last sensation of her body against his, her velvet heat around him, each gasping breath she uses to utter his name as wave after wave of pleasure overwhelm their senses leaving them breathless, shaking and spent in a mass of limbs, and heat.

_**~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~**_

Olivia can still feel the pounding of her heart in her ears, as she struggles to regain her senses coming slowly down from the dizzying height, her senses having spiraled completely out of control with the last orgasm to wash through her system. She feels dazed hand heavy, too uncoordinated to move body still trembling in all the right places as the blood rushes in her ears and Peter's breath tickles against the side of her neck where his head is cradled against her shoulder.

Peter's heartbeat is pounding against her breasts, mimicking her own staccato beat. His breathing is ragged and sharp across her skin, the sensation sends shivers down Olivia's spin to center in her core once more despite being utterly spent. Olivia's body trembles in reaction and Peter gasps, his hands raise to grip her hips holding her still against him.

"Don't move woman or I swear you won't like the consequences."

Olivia is trying to decided with her sex fogged brain if she should be insulted by this when one of Peter's hands abandon her hips and skate up her side to dip beneath her back, raising her shoulders off the bed and returning her mouth to his in a kiss that is softer then the possessing assault Peter hit her with earlier.

This kiss is still filled with heat, and still he battles her for the upper hand but it is with a languid slowness that is relaxed, confident and sated.

"Or what? You haven't got the energy left to do anything to me."

Peter's hips thrust into hers dragging a gasp from her lips. "Don't be so sure about that it's been a long trip and I have a lot of pent up frustrations."

Olivia bit her lower lip.

Peter's stomach chose that moment to growl. Loudly.

"Sounds like you might be hungry for something more substantial then dessert."

Peter paused for a moment as if considering his options his stomach broke the silence again gurgling and yowling for all it was worth.

"I think you better choose the dinner option, sounds like your stomach is ready to start taking prisoners of its own."

"Do I have to go back into the handcuffs?"

Olivia paused for a moment, both well aware that this was the tipping point. "If you'll shower while I order I can leave you un-cuffed while we eat." Olivia chewed her bottom lip looking pensive.

"What?" she looked apprehensive, which worried Peter.

"I can't sleep without you in them, I'm sorry." She looked more sheepish now about the prospect of having to cuff him at least.

Progress.

"_Sweetheart_, who said you were going to get _any_ sleep?" Peter's mouth moved to her earlobe for punctuation, nibbling and sucking against the soft skin there feeling her gasp again, hands coming up to shove at his chest.

"I'm serious Bishop, and Get off me if you want to eat! For God's sake."

Peter reluctantly pulled himself from the bed pausing to stare down at her. "I changed my mind, I'm not letting you out of my sight, you might run away." Oh the irony, for all the world Olivia did look a bit like a deer in the headlights as he moved towards her again.

Grabbing her wrist and tugging her off the bed Peter wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her into another kiss walking them both one step at a time towards the bathroom despite Olivia's protests.

"Knock it off _Peter_!"

Peter smiled against her mouth.

"Shit."

The smile morphed into an all out grin.

"I'll make you a promise Sweetheart, as long as I can touch you like this, I'm not going anywhere. I don't care what kind of mission you're on, or what half cocked scheme my father's got you running off of. What I do know is I'm going to enjoy every minute of what we have here between us while we still can. Screw everything else, the only thing that matters is you and me; that's all that ever mattered really. I was just too blind and stupid to see it."

"So does that mean you're going to go take a shower unsupervised now?" Olivia's heart was in her throat but she tried to ignore it.

"Not without you." Peter grinned. His hands slid down her backside again before circling round her waist sending heat coursing through her limbs, little bolts of electricity raced down her spine as her womb clenched at the thought.

_HooBoy. _

~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~

**Notes: **LOL that was waaaay to much fun! Things get a lot more fun from here on out, after all Olivia has to keep Peter occupied so that his mind doesn't wander to escaping… Poor Olivia! *snicker*

Chapter Twelve should be out in due time! Hope you enjoyed this and I didn't fry to many synapses in your already melty brains! As always reviews are dandy and let me know what you like and what you don't….I'll never know unless you tell me so Feel free to drop me a line anytime! Until next time! -K


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Don't own em, never did.

Many Thanks to AngellCakes23 for being the Beta on this chapter. Any remaining mistakes, are my fault. :)

**Chapter Twelve**

The third time their SUV slides across the snow she makes for the off ramp. Peter knows without glancing at the vehicles GPS that they are still nowhere near their intended destination.

They simply can't risk the roads any longer. They haven't seen another car that wasn't in a ditch or parked carefully on the road side in miles. She doesn't look at him as she pulls into a random motel parking lot; doesn't say a word as she reaches for the keys, flipping off the engine, and opening her door. He follows her silently across the lot, into the office, and stands waiting patiently behind her as the solitary desk clerk signs them into an available room.

The small television behind the desk features some poor ironic soul in a heavy winter coat struggling to keep their teeth from chattering as they tell their viewers yet again just how bad it is out there, how no one in their right mind should be outdoors and to seek shelter now.

"Here are your keys Ma'am." Olivia slides the card keys for their hotel room across the counter top, and slips them both into her coat pocket. "Enjoy your Stay." The clerk's already turned away from them, glued to the tiny 14 inch screen again picking up a half-finished word scrabble.

"Thanks," Olivia can feel Peter pressed against her back as he slips his arm around her side, sliding his hand into her coat pocket he retrieves the car keys and turns, keeping his arm around her waist, he tugs her around the tiny lobby, and out the door into the freezing wind and driving snow.

They trudge down the short sidewalk back towards the vehicle to retrieve the bag from the black SUV, already almost white with the heavy snow amassing on the surface of everything. The blizzard is quickly turning the world glaring white and eerily silent except for the relentless wind pushing snow into their faces.

Peter only pulls his hand from her pocket when they approach the door, sliding the key card through the slot and pushing it open to usher her inside. Once the door is closed he descends on her mouth, pressing her against the solid frame, both bags dropped to the carpet and instantly forgotten.

His hands are opening the buttons on her coat, sliding the scarf from around her neck. His hips thrust against her, pinning her to the door letting her feel the bulge in his jeans as he grinds his length against her. Peter parts her legs with one of his own so that she can feel him, tilting her head back to devour her lips and neck, dropping his head to the hollow at her throat to scrap his teeth along her skin. He's nipping and then soothing his roughness away with open mouthed kisses that have her knees weak and her body thrumming with arousal.

Her fingers quickly divests him of his own outer layers; scarf, coat and ski cap dropped without care.

She lets her fingers skim through his flattened hair, loving the feeling of his soft chestnut curls slipping through her fingers, the way he growls her name against her throat when she pulls just a bit, and lets her nails scratch over his neck and scalp feeling him shudder against her.

"Peter…" Olivia's clothes are discarded as rapidly and unceremoniously as her coat.

His sweater, jeans and boots join hers haphazardly scattered across the floor as they make their way to the single king bed in the room. Pushing her down roughly with a possessive growl, Peter claims her mouth with his as she tangles her fingers in his hair once more.

His mouth is everywhere at once, his hands caress every inch of skin, fingers pressing her closer to him as he thrusts his length against her waiting heat; trapping her beneath him.

He nips his way along her collar bone, making her groan and arch against him. Her nipples pebble beneath his hands as he works his way from one to the other before bringing his tongue down to taste her; circle-ling her breast, palming her flesh. He teases the sensitive flesh with alternating teeth and tongue until she's trembling beneath him, and clutching his shoulders arching against his frame.

Olivia is not one to be easily dominated however, and two can play at this game. Her fingers weave their way through his hair, over his shoulders, and down the muscled smooth expanse of Peter's back to the tempting round ass that always drove her mad all those years ago in the lab.

How many times had she thought about his amazing ass? Dreamt of grabbing it as he bent over some counter or workspace; imagined how he would react if she did.

She sinks her fingers into the soft flesh now, tilting her hips up to grind against his prominent erection driving a strangled moan of her name from his lips against her skin.

She briefly considers flipping them over so that she can watch his face as she rides him. But too late; he's griping her hips now, lifting one leg over his shoulder and she can't help but tilt her hips to him again. Gasping his name, feeling him press against her, his eyes slipping shut for a moment his breathing ragged.

And then he's plunging into her with complete abandon.

His name is on her lips as her back arches, sparks flicker behind her eyes, and electric shockwaves of desire run all the way to her toes.

She pants his name, a breathy mantra of requests tumble from her unwittingly as her fingers dig into his flesh desperate for release now.

Harder

Faster

He complies driving her higher and higher, until she's breaking apart, fracturing and writhing. Bright light and color explode across her vision, leaving her gasping for air, trembling beneath him, but still begging him for more, always more.

He's full of wicked ideas tonight it seems as Olivia finds herself yanked from the mattress. She is ready to protest when he turns her to face the dresser, raising one of her legs and placing her foot on the bed. He bends her forward just slightly at the waist until he's inside her again, driving into her from behind.

His hands grip her breasts, anchoring her chest to his own; thumbs and forefingers teasing her with expert precision. Knowing just how to touch her now; he was always a fast learner.

"Olivia, Look at me."

She meets his eyes in the mirror over the dresser, his gaze locks with hers, dares her to look away as he thrusts inside her, pushes her towards climax again with his ministrations.

"Touch yourself." He takes the hand not gripping the wall for support and leads her fingers down over her own skin to where he's sliding in and out of her. Presses her fingers against her own clit as he changes his rhythm making her arch back into him; her body begging for more even as she fights to stay upright against his onslaught.

"That's it Babe, God that's hot," Peter's lips drift across the skin of her shoulder. His teeth grazing her there leaving a small claiming mark as his fingers grip her hipbones, tilting her just so as he grinds against her making her moan with need.

"Watch me Olivia. Look at me, this is me fucking you." She finds his eyes in the mirror over the dresser holding his gaze as she feels him pound inside her. Her gaze follows his as he drops his eyes in the mirror to where they are pressed so intimately together.

Watching as he shamelessly claims her body, whispering against her ear only intensifies the sensation as he withdraws his length now slick from her own heat, and then slams back inside again. "I'm going to make you scream, going to make you come for me over, and over again. Going to taste it on my tongue, and feel it on my cock. Tell me how much you want it,"

"Please…" And God it is hot, she can't stop the rush of heat watching him fuck her brings on. Suddenly she can see the attraction to all those mirrored ceilings people joke about in raunchy hotel rooms.

Watching him slide in and out of her, feeling him grip her hips as he growls his claim against her neck is more intense than she ever expected.

God she's going to come again. She's dizzy now, release is so close.

She flicks her fingers against her own clit, and rocks back into him as another orgasm shatters her control; forcing her eyes to slip shut against all other sensations as she comes around him.

Peter is still plunging into her, his rhythm slowing, angle changing to prolong the electric charges skipping across her nerves, and singing all the way to her toes.

He slips from her when her legs seem ready to give out, and she finds herself shuddering and groaning at the loss, reaching for him blindly even as she's forced back onto the bed, this time on her hands and knees.

She expects to feel him thrusting into her again, and so she squeaks and nearly jerks off the bed in surprise when it's his tongue that caresses her folds again.

He grips her thighs keeping her pinned to his mouth as he bathes her with his tongue, tasting her and humming with pleasure thoroughly enjoying the after effects of her orgasm on his tongue.

It's not long before she's rocking her hips back against his talented mouth, practically purring his name, and then his fingers replace his tongue. Thrusting first one then two inside her, listening to her moan his name makes his cock twitch. He curls his fingers to hit the perfect spot as his hot breath ghosts across her skin making her jump, he lets his tongue trace over her folds once more feeling her tilt back, gasping, needing more.

She's moaning his name again, pressing back into his hand. Her forehead leaned against the headboard as she feels his thumb circle her clit sending sparks along her spine and making her tremble.

She nearly comes undone when his tongue traces its way up her spine the sensation is so unexpected and inexplicably erotic. His fingers clasp her hips and bringing her back to his waiting length pulsing and throbbing with heavy need.

He pauses there, barely inside her with just the tiniest of thrusts against her sex, only just penetrating her folds, reminding her of just how empty she is, how wet and slick with heat and need. It's enough to drive her mad.

It's his turn to cry out when she thrusts suddenly back against him, burying him in her to the hilt once more, enveloping him in her molten heat. She clenches her muscles around him grinning as his grip tightens painfully on her hips as he fights to stay in control.

But that's not what she wants, no; she wants him to lose control. Needs it, she wants to feel him slam into her and scream her name as he comes inside her. She wants to push him over the edge and watch as he shatters.

"Liv," His growl is a warning that she takes no heed of, instead thrusting back into him again, hard and rough, feeling him buck further into her heat, rocking her forward like there is nowhere else to go.

And it's delicious.

"Fuck me Peter, please," She tightens her muscles around him and pulls away letting her enveloping heat slide along him slowly nearly pulling completely free of him before he snarls and crashes back into her.

"God, Yes." It's a hiss of shaky breath and her head is rocked back as her spine arches and she presses into him rewarding him for his wanton brutality with a roll of her hips burying him even deeper inside her.

His tongue runs along her spine again making her moan and gasp, squirming against his hold, and he seems to like this new game, thrusting into her again with almost bruising force making her arch and mewl.

"Is this what you want?" He punctuates the question with a deep thrust. "Want to be reminded that you're mine?" And another.

His hips drive forward, his long thick flesh pouring into her heat making her arch and buck against him.

He rotates his hips grinding into her, bringing one hand to her shoulder the other to her slim curve of her waist possessively jerking her back against him, and then he's hammering into her, while she writhes and arches and claws at the sheets begging for more.

He's grunting her name with each thrust, and 'mine', 'more', and other words that are lost to the sound of her gasped cries for him to never stop, and the sound of flesh on flesh.

He knows he should stop; slow down at least, he's going to hurt her like this; but she's screaming his name, and it's so fucking hot to possess her like this.

Her arms give out under his assault and she's face down on the mattress, he snarls and pulls her hips back against his not letting her go. Following her down instead, leaning forward over her, he's pinning her, changing the angle, and driving into her as she shutters and gasps, her fists rip at the sheets.

But she's begging for more still, impossibly more, arching and pushing back against him and he knows he's going to lose it; going to come in that unbearably hot, tight, enthralling heat surrounding him. But he needs to take her over the precipice one more time.

He needs to feel her walls seize around him, feel her sweet velvet heat gripping his cock as he comes inside her.

Peter slips one hand beneath them. Trailing his fingers over soft skin damp with sweat, down to the apex of her thighs. Zeroing in on that most sensitive of nerves just above where he's still pounding his rhythmic claim into her mercilessly while she thrashes and begs for more.

Peter's fingers circle her there, and she bucks into his hand, her whole body going ridged as her muscles lock around him, and then she's arching back hard, screaming into the mattress, heat spilling out of her, slipping over his cock, and he's not a split second behind her.

His rhythm is lost as he drives into her with a few more sporadic thrusts, shoving her down to the mattress as he loses the ability to hold himself upright any longer with the burst of endorphins and pleasure cascading over his spine like a tidal wave erasing all thought or sense of self. Heat is racing along his limbs, and spilling into her waiting depths as he loses himself inside her, gasping her name against her shoulder, feeling her insides spasm around his now overly sensitive and spent cock.

He pulls himself from her, rolling to the side so he doesn't crush her with his dead weight, and lets his eyes slip shut trying to control the pounding of his heart beat in his ears, and trying to catch his breath. He wraps his arm around her as she curls against him, her ragged breathing ghosting against his shoulder where her head is cradled, he lets his fingers tangle with hers on his chest. Bringing her hand up to press a kiss to her palm, he weaves their finger's together, and let's darkness slide over him.

~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~

He's not sure when he drifted off to sleep but he awakens to the sound of water running, and sees the steam pouring from the open bathroom door. He slides from the rumpled coverlet and enters the bathroom to see the blurred outline of Olivia through the glass shower door.

He pulls back the door and steps in behind her without a word, and finds her standing under the hot spray. Her head is tilted back, golden hair plastered to her face and neck, eyes closed as she lets the pounding water work the knots from her upper back and shoulders.

She is heartbreakingly beautiful like this. Quietly self-assured and yet a little shy as she feels him press against her, his walking contradiction, his Olivia.

The corners of her mouth turn up in just the hint of a smile as he presses an open kiss to one of the pale freckles on her shoulder whispering her name into the steam.

He takes the soap bar in his hands wetting them under the spray and works up a lather he then slides across her skin; turning her back to him he rubs circles and patterns into the muscles beneath his hands.

Fascinated with the way his fingers slide across her soft pale skin, and the indentions his fingers make when he grips her hips, and pulls her back against him so he can trail soap lathered fingers over her breasts, and down her flat stomach to the apex of her legs.

She moans into the steam, and lets her head fall back against his shoulder as he explores her, gently running his fingers over her before turning her once again to face him, her eyes still closed, the ghost of a smile on her lips as she waits for him to kiss her. She's startled when she feels him kneel before her, and press his tongue to her folds instead.

Olivia fists her fingers in his hair as he laps at her sex, she wonders fleetingly if it's safe to do this in a shower with the water running over them both.

She ponders momentarily how exactly she would explain the fact that Peter Bishop drowned performing oral sex in a shower stall.

A snort escapes her before she can stop it, and she slaps a hand over her mouth; but it's too late, she's distracted him from his task, and he won't continue until she fills him in on her private joke.

Olivia opens her eyes to peer down at him, and sure enough that eyebrow is cocked towards his now dripping hair line demanding an answer to his silent question. His fingers trail up her side over her ribs, and back down to firmly cup the soft swell of her ass when she says nothing.

"Funny, I don't remember getting that particular reaction the last time I did this."

She grins at him running her fingers through his hair making it stick up in a pseudo Mohawk that does nothing to stall the laughter.

"Must be doing something wrong," His eyes darken, and he leans forward to press a kiss to her thigh, then her hipbone, scraping his teeth along her skin making her gasp, and her fingers tighten in his hair.

Then he's pressing his tongue to her folds again, finding her clit with his tongue, attacking his task with the single minded intensity that first intrigued her when they first met so long ago.

Peter's tongue laps at her sex making her legs part unconsciously, and hands grasp the tile walls as he runs his mouth over her, sealing his lips over her, and sucking on the little bundle of nerves making her skin jump and hum with little shocks of pleasure as he assaults her senses with teeth and tongue and thrusting fingers.

Olivia groans, as she feels another orgasm building in her core, rocking her hips against his mouth fingers fisted in his hair; holding that gorgeous mouth to her as she gasps and shudders against his tongue.

He stands then, sliding his hands over her sides, teasing her already hard nipples between his fingertips as his mouth slides over hers. He's invading her mouth, and his erection presses into her stomach throbbing between them as she wraps her own fingers around his heat. Pumping her hand over him and making him shudder, he pulls back from her and meets her eyes.

"I want you,"

She could almost laugh at his admission, the evidence of his need clear against her palm but the look in his eyes stops her. His seriousness stills her hand and makes her breath catch in the back of her throat.

He's not supposed to look at her like this, want is one thing-she can admit that she wants him; probably always has, but his is something more.

Darker, Deeper, all-consuming and encompassing.

She knows better than to give this, she shouldn't offer him this, but there it is. And she knows that she could never deny him either.

Not when she feels the same.

She turns the water off with a twist of her wrist and leads him from the shower crossing the bathroom floor without bothering with the towels.

He follows, eyes locked on hers as she turns him; presses him down against the mattress, mirroring their positions earlier in the night.

She straddles him, reaches down to bring him to her entrance, already wet and ready for him. She sinks down over him as his hands encircle her waist raising her up and helping her set a pace that's softer than before, but just barely so.

He's claimed her already, her body and mind. Traced his claim across her skin with tongue and teeth and fingers.

He's written his name across her soul, or maybe it was already there and he's simply retraced the pattern already marking her as his. Reminding them both that they were always headed here, to this place, to each other.

She does the same to him now, lording herself over him. Claiming, possessive hands slide over him as he arches his back and thrusts up to meet her.

His fingers tangle through her wet hair tracing the drops trailing down her skin as she moves over him.

The cool air of the room against her heated skin raises goose bumps along her arms and back, pebbling her nipples to hard points even before he teases them in his mouth, flicking his tongue against her, and scraping his teeth over the globes.

He's humming his pleasure against her throat as she slams back against him, burying him inside her and rocking her pelvis to stimulate her clit just right, riding him towards release until she's arching and bucking and he's slamming her down onto him. He's circling his hips to get her there, keep her on the edge and then thrusting up into her climax as she loses herself.

Letting himself follow with a groan, feeling the rush as he spills inside her even as he watches her head tipped back, and raises himself to kiss the pale column of her throat, fingers tracing up her back to clutch her against his chest riding out the last tremors of pleasure as the pulsing of her body slows around him and her breathing quiets.

He doesn't speak, not aloud but his mouth finds hers once more and it's a different kind of kiss, one that speaks volumes she's not ready for. Not prepared to defend against.

His touch makes her chest clench and the breath seize in the back of her throat as hot tears prick behind her eyes she squeezes them shut trying to block out the emotions in his touch; trying desperately to hold them at bay.

Not like this.

He's not supposed to do this. He's breaking rules that she's not sure he understood they were supposed to be playing by.

"Liv," He's whispering against her lips again.

His fingers wrapped around her damp hair, holding her cradled to him as he kisses her eyelids, traces the single tear that's escaped to her cheek and then he kisses the corners of her mouth; the crook of her neck.

And he's going to say it…she can feel it.

She isn't ready…

can't…

won't…

It's impossible to hear this; not when she's going to lose him…her heart is breaking, it's too real, too much…not enough….

"Don't, Peter please….God." It's a sob despite her best efforts.

He seems to know he's crossed some line, and while he stiffens against her, he doesn't pull away.

He simply waits, holding her there against him, his breathing slow and measured, calculating.

He's waiting for her to continue, explain, and when she doesn't have any other words, just broken sobs she tries to stifle against his chest he shifts against her. He wraps his arms around her soothing his fingers down her spine, shushing her, but she can practically hear the gears turning in his brilliant mind.

He won't let this go; Peter Bishop is single minded and driven by in insatiable need to solve any puzzle put before him, she would not be able to avoid this. Not for long. Especially now that it has come up. He is after all his father's son.

Hopefully she can put him off just long enough…

and then she won't have to say the words.

Won't have to explain.

Because he'll know.

And then he'll be gone.

~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~

Notes: Alright that's it for Chapter 12 hope you enjoyed it because Chapter 13 is going to be rough.

….and not like that…dirty minds! : P


	13. Chapter 13

_**~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~**_

**Disclaimer:** Don't own em, although now that the series is actually over, maybe I could get a discount on one Peter Bishop? : 3

**Notes:** This was really, really hard to write. I hope it came out okay. Rough seas ahead peeps, sorry in advance. : / Also, I seem to be having some format issues in the upload process; I've tried catching them all but apologies in advance, some of the bold and italics I put in the story for emphasis were lost in the shuffle!

**Chapter 13**

Peter waits until her breathing has returned to normal, still holding her against his chest straddling his lap, unable to let go physically even as he feels the sting of the wall she's slammed up in his face.

He's puzzled, and hurt by her rebuttal. But not enough to let her pull away, to stop touching her like this.

It's taken him 5 years to get this close to her, to be able to touch her like he's always wanted. No not just wanted, _needed_ to be close to her with a driving need usually reserved for things like air, and water. His need to touch her, possess her was once simply a fleeting thought he tried to ignore; but it quickly morphed into an obsession so powerful that even when he thought she was dying-and every fiber of his being had been screaming at him to run; get away, hide from the pain he'd been unable to. He'd been paralyzed by the hope that maybe; somehow; by some miracle she'd come back to him, and she had.

He's not about to let that go.

Especially when he can feel the proverbial sword hanging over his head, getting closer with each passing day, even as he tries damn hard to ignore it.

Peter needs answers. And there's only one person who can give them to him.

"Are you hungry?" It's a safe question; and a valid one, neither of them has eaten in hours.

She nods against his neck pulling back to run her fingers through her hair in a movement that's as familiar to him as his own face in the mirror. God how he's missed even the little things like that.

"I think the dinner across the lot is still open. Sign said 24 hours, I guess that includes during a blizzard."

She slides from his lap and nodding retreats to the bathroom once more without him.

He takes the time to retrieve the bags from the entrance and sets them on the small table, opening them to retrieve fresh clothing; they'll need to visit a laundry mat if this weather prolongs their trip much longer. Peter isn't eager to reach whatever lies in New York; but he also doesn't relish the thought of two day old socks.

There were some personal hygiene standards that simply couldn't be violated; even for someone who'd lived with Walter.

He's dressed when she emerges from the bathroom again, her face scrubbed free of any lingering evidence of tears. He doesn't mention it. Simply grabs a few items and steps into the bathroom himself.

It doesn't take her long to dress-there isn't much by way of choices. They shrug into their coats, Peter does wrap the scarf around her before she can. He lets his fingers caress the side of her neck briefly before he slips his gloves on and opens the door to find the snow has already piled against the door by a good two feet at least—and that's with the half covered awning to protect the walk.

"Good thing this door opens in or we might get trapped inside."

Olivia quirks an eyebrow at him barely noticeable under her ski cap.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I'd protest being locked for days on end in a hotel room with you, I can think of plenty of things we can do to pass the hours; but a man's gotta eat."

Olivia can hardly argue with that, and they're both grateful that the 24 hour dinner and the only source of food they noticed coming off the highway is located in the same parking lot at their hotel, along the same walkway, especially handy with the snow coming down as it is, she highly doubts they'll be driving anywhere tomorrow; and possibly the day after that as well.

The walk across the lot to the dinner is still unbearably cold, and Olivia is grateful that the snow is more powder then slosh; she wasn't exactly prepared for blizzard weather and having their pants' legs soaked to the knee is not something she wants to endure while eating.

The dinner is warm, for which they are both grateful shedding their outer layers and taking a seat in the near empty room. The waitress comes around the second there seated and takes drink orders before leaving them to search the menu.

Peter lets his eyes scan his choices more focused on watching Olivia nervously fidget in her seat across from him. He noted with great amusement that she made a B line directly for one of the tables and not a booth the second they entered the dinner. He'll have to remember that for next time.

"Stop looking at me like that and pick something."

Busted. Her eyes haven't even left the menu, is he that predictable now?

Peter lets his hands drop to the tabletop, slides one hand across its surface and clasps her fingers firmly lacing them with his. She flicks her eyes to him briefly at the contact but says nothing.

"So, what can I get you…" The waitress falters, then clears her throat and fixes her eyes to the note pad in front of her sparing them only brief glances.

Peter is bewildered. They're both fully dressed, Olivia isn't carrying any visible gun or other weapon; yet the waitress is obviously flummoxed by some aspect of their appearance.

His eyes catch Olivia's and he can see clear amusement in her eyes, she obviously gets the joke, _what the hell?_

They order and the waitress practically runs from their table. But before Peter can ask Olivia what the hell that was all about, since he's completely dumbfounded; she's laughing.

An honest to God full on belly laugh, her hands come up to cover her mouth, and there are tears in her eyes, and try as he might to be annoyed at the situation he can't help but enjoy the sight. She's utterly breath-taking stress-free and laughing like this, even if her amusement is at his expense; which he has an inkling it is.

"You wanna fill me in?"

Olivia wipes at her eyes and clears her throat still grinning at him. "She has on two separate cross necklaces, and three bible pins on her apron."

"Yeah, and?" He doesn't get it.

Olivia's grin turns to tear filled laughter again. "Your _wrists _Peter."

Peter's gaze drops to the table top where his long sleeves have ridden up past the halo of stark bruising lacing both his wrists, travel to the matching but softer marks still adorning hers as well. Then to the love bites he's left evident along her collar.

"We just scandalized some very nice bible belt grandmother."

"If she thinks _that's_ horrifying, imagine if you'd chosen a booth." He waggles his eyebrows at her.

"Don't even think about it!" But she's still grinning. "I'm not getting banned from the only place to eat in 20 miles."

"So, tell me, What exactly are we doing here?"

She blinks not meeting his eyes; his change in tone has caught her off-guard again.

"We're getting something to eat."

He just looks at her. It's the _cut the crap_ look she used to get back on cases when she'd tell him she was 'fine' when he could clearly see it was just the opposite. Back then he'd stare her down lips pursed, eyes dark and brooding for a minute or two before he'd inevitably fold and walk away.

But not anymore.

"Massive Dynamic, They've got you running halfway around the world," His eyes scan the dinner before he continues on voice quieter.

"You acquiring…._things_, _people_ and then what? What's the plan here?"

She knew this was coming eventually, that there was no avoiding it.

"Walter came up with a theory after you…left. He thought that the breach between worlds could be closed if they were brought back in…balance."

"What do you mean balance?" He's leaning across the table intently elbows down fingers still twined with hers.

"Walter theorized that part of the problem was that both worlds were out of alignment, that if everything was equal, and both sides used this machine we built; identical machines on both sides, then we could fix the holes."

He's not saying anything just staring at her. Something obviously rolling around in that brilliant mind.

"I don't have all the specifics on the machine or Walter's calculations but I can pull up what I do have on the laptop when we get back to the room if you'd like to look at it. You'd probably get more out of it then I did."

He doesn't say anything still and she finds herself stumbling forward to fill in what she does remember.

She might not have his genius mind, but it's a theory she's spent a lot of time going over, having memorized much of it over the last two years in and out of the labs at Massive Dynamic.

Their food arrives and he changes the topic to something else, heavy tension sits between his shoulder blades, and finally he can't resist any longer, he has to know.

"So, when did the new super powers kick in?" He looks at her pointedly from under dark lashes. His meal is nearly finished and obviously being forgotten now with this new inquiry.

"I don't think we should discuss that here." She thinks she knows where this is going, and has no desire to continue the conversation.

"Did you take more cortexiphan?"

"Drop it Peter."

His eyes flash, suspicion confirmed.

"That stuff is dangerous. Look what it's done to all those other people." His perfect memory is all too happy to conjure up image after image of grisly mangled, bodies, all victims of his father's cortexiphan experiments.

He pauses huffs out an angry breath he's released her hand and brings his palms up to his eyes, pressing them there momentarily in weary silence.

"What exactly did my father say to convince you?"

His voice is clipped, angry Olivia realizes; though whether the heat in his eyes relates to general anger at Walter from what he learned happened when he was a child, or because he thought Walter might be responsible for her taking experimental drugs again she wasn't sure.

Probably a healthy mixture of both.

"Not here Peter," He takes in her inability to meet his eyes as further proof of his worst fear.

Peter can't help the rage building inside him. Finds it rolling off him in waves as his shoulders tighten and a scowl darkens his features. He's glaring at her and she must know it, the way her shoulders tighten, but she's not looking at him. She won't meet his eyes.

"We're not doing this here," she pauses glancing around the dinner. "Besides, it's none of your business,"

"_Fucking bullshit_ it's not my business."

She is _Always_ his business.

The possessive monster deep inside him roars, flexes its claws and curls tighter in the pit of his stomach making him feel sick.

He's going to punch Walter in the face.

His knuckles turn white with his grip on the linoleum tabletop.

"You weren't there Peter, and even if you were you have no right…"

"You lied to me," His snarl stops her words, apparently some part of his brain not completely under his control has decided to play nasty today.

She flushes looking down.

Hell, He'd just found out his father wasn't really _His_ father. That Walter was in fact his childhood abductor snatching him away from his real parents; split universes or alternate realities or whatever bullshit label you wanted to slap on it be damned! He'd needed time to process, heal…work through the wound…and she'd known about it, kept it from him, he loved her and God Damnit she'd betrayed him!

She stares at him wide eyed and _Shit did he say that out loud?_

There's something else in her eyes swirling with the first hints of her own anger and hurt.

Those deep green eyes had always been capable of a complex kaleidoscope of emotions he was hard pressed to separate and define. It had caused him confusion and heartache on more than one encounter.

"You left." She whispers bitterly like even the words burn the back of her throat.

He wants to respond to her accusation; but what _can_ he say?

He did leave, ran like the chicken-shit he was, it was a hard habit to break when he was wounded. Part of him wants to apologize for making her look like that at him, but he's still fuming, wants to pass the blame.

"You could have stopped me."

He feels the overwhelming urge to lash out, kick, fight, he wants to grab her, shake her, scream at her, wrap his arms around her, lock her away where she'll be safe and she doesn't get it…doesn't understand…

"No, I couldn't. You made it very obvious you wanted nothing to do with me. What was I going to do beg you to stay? What could I say? Nothing was going to make it up to you."

"You could have tried."

They were supposed to be partners, friends….were leaning towards something more…

"You never wanted to be there, not really; I forced you from the beginning, and it was selfish and unfair." She takes in a shaky breath, continues. "What was I supposed to do? I obviously wasn't worth staying for, wasn't worth forgiving."

"Spare me the pity party Olivia." Not that he's one to talk…

And Fuck. She just doesn't get how important she is. Granted he's doing a bang-up job of showing her. He might be a genius but he's never been good with emotions, especially the ones that cut deep.

He likes indifference; you can't be hurt if you don't care.

Problem is he _does_ care, _far too much_.

He's tried to distance himself, emotionally…physically even, because he doesn't deal well when his own personal cards are on the table. He lived high stakes with his life, but not his emotions, those he kept up his sleeve. He couldn't take the chance that she doesn't feel like he does, doesn't want him, need him like he needs her…cause the truth is he's still that in so many ways he's still that wounded little boy, lonely and lost.

He runs from those emotions, so they can't make him feel weak.

But he can't run now, and his cards are on the table despite his best efforts, he's laid himself bare for her to see and she just doesn't get it.

She's hurting him and some wicked angry part of him wants to return pain, deflect it off of himself before she can see just how damaged he really is.

"What did you do, wait five minutes after I left before you're getting high with Walter-who is just the fucking role model of good decision making, mind you."

"How could you be so stupid Olivia? You let him shoot you up with whatever concoction he can cook up? You know what he's capable of! What the Hell were you thinking?!"

How can she risk her life and not care? He wants to slam a door, punch a wall.

How could he leave her in harm's way? He wants to punch himself.

"I didn't have a choice, not that it makes a difference, it doesn't matter, it's done."

Peter wants to pace, anger crawls up his spine, makes his blood boil.

"Let's go. NOW."

He stands takes two steps to her side of the table, wraps his fingers around her elbow moving to practically jerk her from the seat. She yanks her arm from his hold and elbows him for good measure. He doesn't step back, watches her as she drops more than enough bills on the table to cover their meal then turns to leave. He follows on her heels passes her to open the door with a violent jerk, shoving his arms into his coat, not bothering with the scarf as they exit the dinner.

The freezing wind does nothing to cool the seething rage burning through him.

She just doesn't get it…

Doesn't know how he couldn't function without her…he tried, it wasn't living, being without her was a miserable existence, his own private hell.

If something happened to her…

_No_, Peter clamps down on that thought. He will not even consider losing her. Not now. Not _ever._

He's got quite a few things he's going to say to Walter.

They stomp back through the snow, entering their room, slamming the door behind them, he rips the coat from his body throwing it across a chair he advances on her gesturing wildly.

"You call him Right Now!"

_He could have lost her in any number of his father's half-cocked insane experiments; he hadn't been there to stop it…_

"What?!"

"Walter, Put him on the _God Damn Phone_! I have a thing or two to say to him, I mean Fuck Olivia! You're supposed to have some common sense because we both know he doesn't!"

He thinks of all those times Walter suggested something dangerous and he'd immediately shot the option down, he wonders; if he hadn't been there those times what other damage might his insane father have done to her?

_They weren't even under the FBI's direction anymore…and there's no telling what kind of experiments the nut jobs at Massive Dynamic would have allowed…_

She's not looking at him, just standing there; staring at the floor.

"Call Him Olivia, Right now." He's so furious he can't see straight.

"I can't."

"_Why The Hell Not_?! Don't you try to protect that Bastard! He could have _killed_ you Olivia, Don't you get that!? You don't do you?!"

She sobs.

_Oh Jesus, fuck me_.

The sound is like a bucket of ice water to the face.

How does he _always_ do this?! He's fucking hurt her _again_, he's such an ass.

Peter scrubs a hand over his face, not sure what to do.

She covers her face with both hands shoulders shaking; he can tell she's trying not to make a sound.

"I'm sorry, Olivia…" He takes a deep breath, doesn't know how to continue, stares at his boots like a coward.

She's still sobbing, but its words now that he struggles to make out. "I didn't have any choice, you were gone, and he was gone, and it was just me! You _left me_ all alone to try to fix it all, what else was I supposed to do? I didn't know what else to do!"

"What do you mean _gone_? Gone _where_ Olivia?"

"You left, you didn't see…didn't see what it did to him, and maybe you don't care after what he did….but he just fell apart… I tried to be there for him, to do what you did, but I wasn't good enough and he left me, just like you, just like everyone leaves me because all I do is screw things up."

"He went back to Saint Claire's?"

"No. Peter, I tried to find you, tried to tell him it was going to be okay; but he wouldn't listen. Said he'd ruined everything, destroyed the lives of 6 billion people, that he was a monster and you were right to leave. And I tried to keep an eye on him, I did, and oh god, I blame myself…"

She's really sobbing now, shaking, arms wrapped around herself, great heaving breaths rush out with every other word and he thinks he knows what she's going to say…but no he doesn't want to hear it; can't listen anymore.

"No."

"I should have locked him back up in Saint Claire's maybe then he'd have been safe,"

"_No._" He can't breathe.

"Three months after you left, he…" she stops gasping for air, "he…" she's choking on the words.

He's snatching her, shaking her shoulders, face livid, despair already clogging the back of his throat.

"_He What Olivia_?!"

_Don't let it be true…don't let it be true…_

"He overdosed in the lab…"

_**~*~*~*~Fringe~*~*~*~**_

**Author Note:** I know, I suck. You hate me, You're going fqughoi fndovheh! Right now. Sorry. It was the only way this story would work! Review please if you're not too mad at me to see straight…eep. Got chapter 14 on the way, Still looking for a second Beta if anyone is interested! : 3


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